Tell Them All
by and she knew love
Summary: Post-finale. B&B have come to an understanding about themselves, but how do they break the news to the rest of the squint squad? Because Angela is sure to freak out and Max is sure to shoot someone. Follow-up to "Revolution." B&B
1. The Best Friend

**A/N:** Okay, here's the deal. I'm going to leave "Revolution" as a oneshot and work on this instead. Don't expect every chapter to be as long as this one, but expect me to make my way around to everyone in turn :) Thank you so much for all your support, especially your amazing response to "Revolution." Love you guys!

Enjoy! And, of course, leave any thoughts/suggestions at the end!

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><p>"We should tell Angela first," Brennan suggests, her fingers idly playing with the Saint Christopher's medallion around Booth's neck. "She's my best friend. She should know first."<p>

"Of course," Booth agrees, smiling down at her. He's propped himself up with on an elbow, leaning into his pillow as he runs a hand down her side. He fingers the hem of her shirt—_his_ shirt on her—and can't help but laugh. "But we need to tell your dad as soon as possible, because if he thinks I've knocked you up, he's going to come in here with a shotgun and murder me."

She laughs too and nods. "That would be undesirable."

Booth gazes affectionately at her. "Yeah, it would. 'Cause I'd been planning to spend the rest of my life with you, and getting killed would suck."

She flushes slightly, and it's the most adorable thing he's ever seen. Even a couple of days later—days filled with him sending her not-so-subtle compliments and promises of a lifetime—she doesn't seem to have really grasped the fact that he's in this. Completely, unchangeably in this, more with her than he has been with anyone in his entire life.

How can a guy be so lucky?

"I'll deal with my father," she says decisively after a moment. "If he tries to hurt you, I'll make sure to reprimand him."

At that, Booth rolls his eyes. "I doubt a _reprimand _will be much good when I'm six feet under."

She hits him lightly on the shoulder, trying to glare, but her eyes give her away. They're gleaming with laughter, and he can't help but laugh too.

"I'll be sure to thank you from heaven, Bones," he chuckles, and she hits him again.

"He _won't_ hurt you," she corrects. "I'll make sure he won't."

Trying not to smile, he nods in grave satisfaction and says, "Good, because he listens to you. On that note, you should probably be the one to tell him."

At this, a flicker of worry shoots across her face, and she stops spinning his medallion and just lays her hand on his chest. "You'll be with me though, right?" she asks, a hint of anxiety in her voice. "When we tell everyone? I don't want to…"

"Do it alone?" he guesses, giving her a gentle smile. "Bones, you're not doing _anything_ alone from here on out." With a quiet chuckle, he adds, "I'm going to be just as annoying as Hodgins was with Angela. You won't even be able to tie your shoes without me butting in and trying to help. You'll think I'm the most annoying guy on the face of the planet by the time this ends. In fact, you're probably going to be sick of me by the time this _week_ ends."

She returns his smile and touches his medallion again, watching it catch the early morning sunlight. "Good. I'm glad."

"Be glad," he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss against her lips before swinging out of bed and glancing at the clock. Ten thirty-two. "Damn it, I'm late."

She sits up too but doesn't throw off the covers. "Are you going to be in trouble?"

Booth shakes his head and rummages quickly through his drawers for a tie. "Nah. I had a meeting, but that's okay." Sending her a wide grin, he adds, "Missing it was worth it."

She smiles back and starts to say his name, but halfway through it, her face contorts, and she throws up a hand to clap it over her mouth. It's been a long time since Rebecca and Parker's birth, but Booth recognizes the symptoms immediately. Dropping his tie, he grabs Bones' arm and propels her to the bathroom, just barely managing to toss the toilet seat up before she leans over and throws up what's left of her dinner from the night before. He sweeps back her hair and holds it as she bends over the toilet, her face almost green.

Coughing, she spits and shakes her head, disgust contorting her expression. "I find that morning sickness is just as abhorrent as Angela made it sound."

Chuckling, Booth pats her back and asks, "Is it over?"

"I still feel a little nauseous, but I think the worst of it is over." With a groan, she leans back away from the toilet and closes her eyes.

He gives her a quick kiss on the forehead and stands. "All right. Stay here, and I'll get you some water."

When he gets back, glass of water in hand, she's still sitting on the floor of his bathroom, her eyes shut. He lowers himself silently to sit next to her and hands her the water. With a thankful smile, she rinses out her mouth, spits the water out in the sink, and comes to sit next to him again, downing the rest of the glass in a few thirsty gulps.

"Here," he says, handing her the tray in his other hand.

She takes it slowly, puzzled. "What's this for?"

"When Rebecca had morning sickness," he explains, "it helped her to suck on ice cubes."

Brennan gives him a skeptical look. "There's no scientific evidence to prove—"

"Just do it, Bones," Booth interrupts, popping one off the tray and shoving it in her mouth. She gives him a surprised glare for a moment before mutinously spitting the ice cube out on her hand.

"This is _illogical_—"

He takes another one and pushes it into her open mouth, fighting a smile at her wide-eyed look of surprise. "You're having a baby, Bones. You're going to have to deal with illogical."

With an expression that comes incredibly close to pouting, she gurgles something around the ice cube, and he laughs, shaking his head at how cute she is. They fall into a comfortable silence as she sucks on the ice cube, and he takes her hand, giving it a squeeze. She stands to tilt the other ice cube on her hand into the sink before returning to her spot beside him.

Finally, when the ice cube seems to have melted, Brennan says logically, "_I'm _the one having the baby. I should decide what to do with my body, and that includes what I ingest."

Booth chuckles and shakes his head. "Doesn't work that way, Bones. _I'm_ the one who's going to have to deal with your hormones, so I get to have a say in what happens to you. And I'm just trying to make you feel better, so if I say eat an ice cube, eat an ice cube."

After a moment, she gives him a weak smile, and he notices the edge to it right away. "Bones?" he asks, ready to push her to the toilet again. "Feeling nauseous again?"

"No," she says quietly, shaking her head. "It's just…" With a sigh, she leans her head on his shoulder and shifts closer to him. "What if I'm not ready for this?"

Oh, Bones. It seems like the energy and excitement from two days past when she first told him has passed. She's finally crashing back into reality, and that familiar fear is back in her eyes. He'd known this part would come eventually, and he knows the most he can do now is lend her his support.

"Bones," he says gently, wrapping her in a one-armed hug. "No one's ever ready for a baby. Even the women who try for one aren't ready. Nothing can prepare you for this, but that's okay, because you're literally _made_ for this. Women are made for childbirth, right? Evolutionary advantages and that stuff?"

She laughs softly against his shirt. "Yes, evolutionary advantages and that stuff."

"Exactly." He rubs her arm and presses a kiss to the top of her head. "You're the strongest person I know, Bones. Angela did it, and you can do it too."

"Angela has a husband to support her."

"And you have me." Hiding a smile, he feigns offense and protests, "You aren't giving me enough credit, Bones. Having me is better than having a Hodgins. There's evidence to prove it."

She gives him a curious look. "I'd like to hear it."

He holds up a finger. "For one thing, I've got experience. I have a kid, and I've been through this before. It's old territory for me, Bones. For another, I bet we've been through more together than Angela and Hodgins have, and if we can get through things like the Gravedigger and Broadsky, we can get through this. And lastly—this is my trump card—I'm just the best." Grinning his wide, cocky smile, he swings around to kiss her. "I'm the best thing for you, Bones. Not Hodgins and not anyone else. You're mine, and I'm yours, and _that's_ why you're going to do just fine."

That nervous expression frozen in her eyes, she stares at him for a long moment. Then, finally, she lets out a little sigh and leans on his arm again, closing her eyes. "I know."

"Good." He kisses her head again and murmurs, "You know I want to sit here with you forever and debate the merits of eating ice cubes, but I have a job to do and so do you. I'll try to get off early today though." Standing, he pulls her to her feet and puts out a hand to steady her. "Better?"

With a brighter smile, she nods. "Much better. Luckily, morning sickness shouldn't last much longer than twelve weeks. Still, I am not looking forward to the next couple of months."

Booth grins back and replies, "Well, I'm not looking forward to your mood swings, so welcome to motherhood. You put up with your vomiting and I'll put up with your celery soup ice cream, deal?"

"Celery soup ice cream?" Brennan repeats with a grimace. "That sounds…unhealthy, to say the least."

He shrugs with a laugh. "That's what Rebecca craved when she had Parker. You're the one who's going to look like a bowling pin in a few months, so I'm not judging." He helps her back to the bed before shrugging off his shirt and into a white dress shirt. "I don't have any pressing cases right now, so I should be back before six."

"Take your time," she answers, rising too and collecting her clothes from the floor. "I have a skeleton to reconstruct, and if my original analysis of the damage was correct, it should take a while."

"Fine." Booth kicks off his pajama pants, pulls on his slacks, and searches for his belt. After a moment, Bones picks it up from under one of the pillows they kicked on the floor and hands it to him. Tying his tie quickly, he asks, "You want me to bring you lunch? Twelve-thirty sound good to you?"

"Sounds great." She hesitates for a second before suggesting slowly, "Maybe we could go tell Angela then."

He stops, a yellow-striped sock in hand. "What?"

Embarrassment and uncertainty flit across her face, and she turns away. "Nothing. I just thought we could maybe tell her today. Never mind."

"No, no, no, Bones." He crosses the room and pulls her back to face him. "That's not what I meant. I was just surprised." He hadn't expected Bones to want to tell everyone so soon. Next week maybe, when they'd sorted things out, but not today. Not _now_. But if she's ready to take the step, then so is he. He's damn excited. "It's a great idea. Let's tell her today."

She searches his face, her eyes wide and apprehensive. "Are you sure?"

"Am I sure?" He kisses her hard, just to let her know how _sure_ he is. "Of course I am, Bones! I can't wait to see her face. Twelve-thirty, okay? We'll drive over to her house. Don't you dare tell her without me." Releasing her with a grin, he turns and throws back the covers on the bed. "Have you seen my other sock?"

After a moment, she loses the guarded look and smiles brightly at him. "Yes, it's over by the bathroom door."

He smiles back and gives her a quick kiss. "Thanks."

* * *

><p>Twelve-thirty comes too slowly. She's nervous and worried about how everyone else will react, but then she remembers how Booth looked when she told him—that pure, joyful laugh of disbelief and then giddy excitement—and she's confident all over again. She's not alone, and she won't have to tell anyone alone, and that makes it all right.<p>

But it also makes the wait agonizing. Although twelve-thirty is hardly an hour away, time seems to pass sluggishly all morning. Even the bones can't hold her attention for long, and every time she thinks of Angela's reaction, her heart leaps in her chest. The artist reacted incredulously enough when Brennan had told her about the night after Vincent's death. A baby…Angela will be beyond ecstatic. Brennan finds herself surprisingly eager to see it.

Finally, finally, Booth appears in the doorway of the lab, his tie loosened and a bag of takeout in his hand. When he spots her, his smile seems to light up the room, and he crosses over to the base of the platform, calling up, "You ready, Bones?"

"I've been ready," she answers gladly, stripping off her latex gloves. "Let's go."

In the car, Booth makes sure her seatbelt is secure and comfortable before pulling out of the parking lot. He glances over at her and gives her a wide smile. "We're really doing this. We're having a baby."

"_I'm_ having the baby," she reminds him with a grin. "You're just watching."

"Believe me, Bones, I'm going to feel this as much as you do," he replies.

She gives him a puzzled look. "I assure you, you won't be feeling any of the pain I will. For one thing, your body doesn't have the sexual organs required to replicate the events of pregnancy. For another—"

"Emotionally, Bones, _emotionally_," Booth interrupts with a laugh. "I'm going through the same thing emotionally, and that's half of it already."

She sees his point. "Oh. All right." Then, after a moment, she asks, "How are we going to do this?"

He pauses. "Do what? Give them the news?" At her nod, he says, "I guess we tell her straight out. Tell _them_ straight out. Hodgins should be with her, right?"

"Yes, he's taking the week off to stay with her." Imagining the moment, she says, "So what do we do, exactly? Do we tell them right away? Or should we exchange pleasantries first? To lessen the shock? Emotional stress wouldn't be conducive to Angela's health right now, even after having the baby."

"Angela's strong," Booth chuckles. "I'm sure she'll make it. You let me worry about the pleasantries and just focus on dealing with your friend, okay? It'll be fine, Bones. Just breathe."

"I'm breathing," she assures him. She's not apprehensive for Angela's reaction, really, because she knows it'll be positive. Angela might be more excited than Booth had been, if that's possible. What she wants to do now is concentrate on memorizing the moment. It'll be a moment to remember forever, she's sure of it, because the seven years of her partnership with Booth have been leading up to this. This situation, this opportunity. This twist of _fate_.

Her thoughts are cut off when Booth pulls up into the driveway of the house, cutting the engine as he stops in front of the door. Taking the keys from the ignition, he holds his hand out to her. "Ready?"

With a breath, she gives his fingers a squeeze and answers, "Yes."

Hoping to look nonchalant, she stands anxiously on the porch as Booth knocks. They can hear someone stumble down the stairs with a curse before the front door opens, revealing a rumpled, disheveled Hodgins with a suspicious yellow stain all down the front of his shirt.

"Booth? Doctor B?" He gives them both wary looks. "Don't tell me there's a case."

"No case," Booth says cheerfully, clapping Hodgins on the shoulder. "Is that barf?"

Glancing down at the yellow stain, Hodgins groans aloud. "Yes, it is. This baby thing is a lot harder than the training classes made it sound. I haven't gotten three hours of sleep in the last two days."

"Hang in there, man," Booth reassures him. "It gets better." Taking Brennan by the arm, he asks, "Is Angela in there?"

Hodgins nods. "Where else would she be? Between her post-pregnancy mood swings and the baby's crying, I'm all worn down. Thank God you two came."

"We have something to tell you, actually," Brennan starts, striving for her scientist voice. "I'm—"

"—coming in," Booth finishes quickly, sending her a look and a shake of his head. _Not yet._ Nodding slowly, she follows him into the spacious house, nearly tripping over a battalion of toys in the hallway. Booth holds her arm to steady her as they slowly make their way through the maze of colorful blocks and toy trains.

"What's with the Toys 'R' Us in the hall?" Booth asks, raising an eyebrow. "Parker had three favorite toys and that was it."

Hodgins sighs heavily. "Angela wants _everything_ for our kid, and when I say everything, I mean _everything._ She's running us broke, and he's barely two days old. Come on, she's back here."

Leaning back, Booth says in a whisper, "Our kid's getting a few favorite toys, and that's it. I'm not breaking a leg every time I walk down the hall."

"I agree," she whispers back, loving the sound of how he says _our kid._ It makes her tingle with excitement all over again for the next nine months and beyond.

"Here," Hodgins announces, pushing open the door at the end of the hall. It's apparently the nursery, with the animals stenciled in on the walls and the crib in the corner. Angela's sitting on the floor with Michael between her legs, and when she spots them, her face lights up.

"Bren!" she exclaims. "Booth! I was wondering when you'd come visit me."

"Hi," Brennan says, somewhat shyly. She finds it difficult to keep her eyes away from the baby and to keep from thinking that in less than a year, she'll have this too. This happiness, this fulfillment. Coming further into the room, she sits across from Angela and says, "I wanted to come see you and the baby. And…" She turns to glance at Booth and at his confirmatory nod, she adds, "…and I wanted to tell you something."

"You want me to grab you a beer?" Hodgins asks Booth in the doorway. "We can go to the kitchen while the girls have their girl talk."

Booth grabs his sleeve and shakes his head. "I think you're going to want to be here for this."

Angela nods, her eyes flicking from Booth to Brennan. "Okay. What is it?"

"I understand that in the event of your delivery, this news may be surprising," Brennan starts. "And I do not intend to emotionally stress you in any way, so please try to remain calm. Heightened emotional states could be detrimental to your recovery and—"

Angela interrupts, "Is there a point to this?" just as Booth urges, "Just tell her already, Bones."

So Brennan takes a deep breath, gives Booth a glance, and says, "Angela, I'm pregnant. With Booth's child."

There's a long silence, almost like the one that followed her announcement to Booth. Angela just stares in open-mouthed disbelief for a long moment, her eyes wide. Behind them, Hodgins protests, "That's impossible. You two would have to be having sex, and we would _definitely_ notice if you were having sex." When neither of them answer, he says, more uncertainly, "We would've noticed, right?"

"Oh my god," Angela breathes, staring straight ahead at the wall. "Oh my _god._"

"Angela?" Brennan asks in concern. "Are you okay? Was that too sudden?"

"Too _sudden?"_ the artist gasps. "No, sweetie, that wasn't too sudden. It's just that you and Booth…for seven years…and now you're having _babies?"_

"One," she corrects matter-of-factly. "One baby."

"Oh my god," Angela says, and she bursts into tears.

"Whoa," Booth says, raising eyebrows.

"That wasn't supposed to happen," Brennan says in panic, turning to catch Booth's eyes. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, Bones," Booth replies slowly. "I think it's the hormones."

"It's definitely the hormones," Hodgins agrees, still frozen in the doorway. "I mean, the baby, you and Doctor B…Everything's a little too much for her right now. She cries in _The Lion King._"

"Shut _up!"_ Angela snaps, still crying stormily. Sniffling, she hiccups, "These are tears of _happiness_, you heartless moron, and _everyone_ cries in _The Lion King!"_

The three of them stare at her, at a loss, and Michael continues to gurgle happily between Angela's legs.

"She's been like this for days," Hodgins whispers to Booth. "Tell me it stops soon."

Sending him a bland stare, Booth shrugs and replies, "Bones is going to be like this for months. Forgive me if I don't feel sorry for you."

At that, Brennan turns and gives Booth a narrow-eyed look. "Even if I am irrationally affected by the pregnancy hormones, I will never spontaneously burst into tears, Booth."

Just shaking his head knowingly and chuckling, he comes over to kiss her head, which makes Angela sob even harder.

"Oh, you say that now, Bones," Booth laughs. "You say that now."


	2. The Baby Duck

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews, guys, as always! Hope you enjoy this one ;)

Please leave your thoughts at the end. It takes about two minutes.

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><p>"I want to tell him."<p>

"No, Bones, _I_ get to tell him. You'll probably scare the kid with crazy pregnancy squint-talk."

"I think being straightforward would be the best way to let him know. He'd appreciate directness."

Booth snorts. "You just want to be the one to tell him."

Brennan raises her eyebrows. "So do you."

They give each other long looks, and Booth narrows his eyes in an attempt to glare. But she looks too eager for him to glower for long, and when he looks away, she lets out a triumphant shout that makes him sigh.

"One of these days, I'm going to win in a staring contest, Bones," he says assuredly, shaking his head.

"No, you won't," she answers with a grin. "Because I'm always right, and you have to accept that."

"Accept what?"

The two of them turn quickly to find Sweets standing behind them, his expression bemused. "Is there any reason you're loitering in front of my office?" His expression brightening, he asks, "Is there a case?"

Grinning, Booth shakes his head. "Nope. No case."

The psychologist's brow furrows and he regards them with a quizzical look. "Then what? You guys would never voluntarily come within a hundred feet of my office."

"We were debating," Brennan explains quickly. "About who gets to tell you that I'm—"

"_Sneaky!"_ Booth exclaims, cutting her off. "No fair!"

"We agreed that I'd be the one to tell him," she protests, crossing her arms. "What's so sneaky about that?"

"I'm not ready!" he answers, hands on his hips as he turns to regard her. "I have to prepare myself."

"For what?" Brennan asks, giving him a deadpan stare. "You already know that I'm—"

"No!" Spinning around, Booth orders, "Sweets, don't listen to her." To Brennan, he adds, "Bones, let's get the kid in his office first, okay? Or else he'll faint in the hallway, and I don't want to have to deal with that."

After a moment, she nods. "All right. But I still get to tell him."

By now, Sweets is giving them both a slightly alarmed look, his eyes wide. "This isn't a surprise, is it? Not a bad one? I'm really not in the mood for surprises, guys."

"You're going to love it, Sweets," Booth assures him, beaming. "But just sit down, because I don't want to have to catch you."

They propel him into his office and Booth shoves him down into his customary armchair as Bones settles herself on their couch. Grinning widely, Booth sits down next to her, and Sweets glances between the two of them tensely.

"Do you guys need therapy or something?" he asks tentatively after a moment.

At his hesitant glances, Booth laughs. "Sweets, we're not armed robbers, so stop looking like you're about to be shot. Bones and I just have something to tell you."

"I want to say it," Brennan whispers loudly.

"Bones wants to say it," Booth agrees. "But that's not fair because she got to tell Angela."

She frowns. "You didn't say you _wanted_ to tell Angela."

"Well, she was your friend, so it made sense for you to tell her," he answers. "But Sweets is mine."

"He's my friend too," Brennan argues logically. "You attended the same therapy sessions as I did. You can't be better friends with him than I am."

"We don't count level of friendship by therapy sessions, eh, Sweets?" Booth asks, grinning at the psychologist. "So whose friend are you, Bones' or mine?"

Sweets shoots them both wary looks and says, "I don't think I want to get involved in this…"

"Of _course_ you have to get involved," Booth replies, smiling enigmatically. "Here's the deal: Bones is probably going to say it straight out, and you'll probably have a heart attack. But I'll ease you into the news. So which would you rather have?"

"I'd rather not die," Sweets answers weakly. "What is this about?"

"He chose me, Bones," Booth says smugly, nudging her with his knee.

"That was an unfair representation of my communication skills," Brennan protests. "It is highly unlikely that I would induce a heart attack simply by speaking, especially since the news is happy."

"Oh, that's good," Sweets mutters, slumping down in his seat.

"I still get to tell him," Booth insists, ignoring the psychologist. "I get the short end of the stick overall."

"How is that?" Brennan challenges, raising an eyebrow.

"Everyone's going to be happy when _you_ tell them," he explains. "But I have to deal with your dad and your brother, who'll probably threaten my life a couple of times. So I get to tell Sweets."

"You have the short end of the stick?" Brennan repeats skeptically. "I don't see _you_ throwing up and carrying a—"

Hurriedly, Booth reaches up to clap a hand over her mouth. "Bones! You practically gave it away!"

Sweets stares at them blankly, and Booth isn't sure if the kid's just dense or processing the information. In any case, he decides to take advantage of the moment—and the fact that Bones can't talk through his fingers—to say, "You hear that, Sweets? I'm going to be a father again! Bones is pregnant!"

Glaring at him, Brennan pries his fingers away from her mouth and demands, "How was that any different from my direct approach? I thought you were going to ease him into the news. I would have said the same thing!"

"I had to get it out before you said anything," Booth answers smugly, patting her knee. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, Bones."

"That's not fair," she grumbles in return. "You forcibly subdued me, and—"

"_W—what?"_ Sweets splutters suddenly, shaking his head and shifting forward in his chair. "Wait, _what?"_

"He grabbed me," Brennan answers, giving him a puzzled look. "Didn't you see it?"

Shaking his head furiously, the psychologist holds up a hand. "No, no, no, not that. What Booth said—is it true? Are you…?"

"Pregnant?" she finishes. "Yes, I am."

"And yes," Booth adds, noting Sweets' open-mouthed shock, "it's my kid."

The psychologist slumps back into his chair, his expression dazed, and Brennan says, "You were right, Booth. We would have had to catch him if we'd told him while he was standing."

"I'm always right," he quotes back to her, grinning cockily. At Sweets, he says, "You okay, buddy? I know I kind of sprung that on you. Sorry about that."

"No, no," the psychologist answers feebly. "It's just…she's _pregnant?_ You guys…together…in a _bed?_ For real?"

"That's generally how it works, Sweets, though I'd understand if you were too young to understand the birds and the bees thing," Booth says, smiling brightly. "So what do you have to say? I know you didn't see _this_ one coming."

He's just silent, sitting frozen in his armchair across from them, his gaze riveted on Brennan's stomach.

"I think we've traumatized the kid," Booth stage-whispers, grinning.

"I don't know how," she answers, shaking her head. "There wasn't anything particularly traumatizing about the news."

"I did kind of say it quickly," Booth admits apologetically. "Maybe I should've led with 'how do you feel about kids, Sweets?' That was the plan before you sabotaged it."

"Sabotaged it!" Brennan exclaims. "I just wanted to tell him myself. You were just being selfish."

"You told Angela," he reminds her. "And then you wanted to tell Sweets too. Who's being selfish?"

With a huff, she crosses her arms and looks away. Then her face lights up, and she swivels back to stare at him, the glint in her eye scarily devious. "All right. If you want to tell everyone, you can. But then you'll be the one telling my father," she announces triumphantly.

Oh, bringing out the big guns, is she? Booth stares at her for a second before narrowing his eyes. "Mean! Just a week pregnant, Bones, and you're already evil!"

"I'm _right,_" she corrects smugly. "Would you like to tell the others, then?"

"No," he grumbles, shaking his head. "You tell them, you sneaky blackmailer. You haven't changed at all since I first met you."

"Except now I'm pregnant," she points out.

"Except now you're pregnant," he agrees, smiling happily.

"Hah!"

Both of them turn back to find Sweets splitting into a smile, then breaking out into laughter. Not incredulous laughter or congratulatory laughter, but strangely gleeful laughter. Gleeful in a way that makes Booth frown.

"We've knocked the kid off his rocker, Bones," he says, raising an eyebrow.

"I think the saying fits," she agrees, eyeing the psychologist's wild look.

"I'm not—not crazy," Sweets gasps, wiping tears away from his eyes. "Anything but that. I'm just—ha!—just laughing because—because you think you're pulling a fast one on me, but…"

"But?" Booth prompts, a sudden pit of apprehension in his gut. Somehow, in the last three seconds, something has changed, and he doesn't think it'll bode well for them. Sweets laughing maniacally doesn't seem like a good sign.

"But—you've just—_ha!_—shot yourselves in the foot!" Sweets crows.

"Is he hallucinating?" Brennan whispers anxiously. "Neither of us have a gun, and neither of us are injured."

"It's a saying, Bones," Booth replies slowly. "But I don't get it either. How'd we do that, Sweets?"

The psychologist chuckles with himself for another long moment before pulling himself together. Leaning forward in his chair, a wide smile still splitting his face, he explains, "You guys. Do you really expect that your dynamic won't change with this new addition? Do you think everything's going to go along just fine, just like it's always been? No, it's not. Everything's changed, your careers, your lives, your relationship together. And do you know what a huge change like this warrants?"

At their blank stares, Sweets answers gleefully, "_Therapy. _You two. Six weeks minimum. I'm recommending it starting tomorrow. I expect to see you two in my office at six-thirty in the afternoon, sharp."

Now it's _their_ turn to stare wide-eyed at him, mirroring expressions of horror written across their faces. Booth groans and flops back against the back of the couch as Brennan sits ramrod-straight in place, her eyes wide. Sweets eyes them both and sits back with a smug smile.

"You can't do this," Brennan protests finally. "You don't have the authority."

"Of course I do," Sweets answers, grinning. "You know the FBI won't like this. I'll be instrumental in allowing you two to continue working together. So you want to get on my bad side right away, or you want to try to make this work?"

After a long moment of silence, Booth exchanges a glance with Brennan, and with an abrupt, decisive nod, they stand together.

The psychologist frowns. "Where are you two going?"

"_Away_," Booth retorts. "You're right, Sweets, no surprises. We're never telling you anything ever again."

"No, we aren't," Brennan agrees vehemently. "I'm glad _I_ wasn't the one to tell you."

Booth snorts. "Hey! You wanted to tell him in the first place."

She levels a dry look at him. "And you fought me for it, and now look what's happened."

"We should have just never told him," Booth groans, shaking his head as he yanks open the door to the office. Turning back, he adds, "And we're not showing up tomorrow."

"It's _your_ partnership!" Sweets returns, smiling widely.

Glaring, Brennan remarks, "Although I am not usually given to strong feelings, I strongly dislike him right now, Booth."

Sending Sweets a similar glower, Booth tucks a hand around Brennan's waist and says, "Nobody blames you, Bones. Nobody blames you." And he shuts the door sharply.


	3. The Prosecutor

**A/N:** Thank you for your truly AMAZING response to the last chapter. This one's Caroline for those of you who asked. I find her especially difficult to write, so I hope this doesn't disappoint. I think Max will be up next :)

Please continue to leave your thoughts! I love, love, love reading them, and I'll take any suggestions for future chapters! Let me know what you think of my Caroline too.

* * *

><p>Booth knocks heavily on the bathroom door and asks, "Bones, you ready yet? The case starts in half an hour, and afternoon traffic is hell. We should've left an hour ago."<p>

"I'm coming," comes her weak reply. "I just need to—"

He winces at the sound of her retching up the last of her lunch and wonders if morning sickness with Rebecca was ever this bad. And with this bad of timing.

His phone rings, and he digs it out of his slacks, flipping it open. "Hello?"

"Don't you _hello_ me, cherie," Caroline snaps, her voice disgruntled. "You should've been at the courthouse fifteen minutes ago. Where are you two?"

Hand on the doorknob, he almost opens the door to peek inside, but the sound of Bones gagging makes him pause. "Hey, Caroline. We're, um…having personal problems."

"I don't care if you're dying of swine flu," she retorts. "We can't prosecute without Doctor Brennan here to testify on her findings, so you get over your personal problems _right now_, cherie, or _I'll_ be giving you some personal problems."

"It's a little more than swine flu," Booth answers, tapping his fingers on his leg. "Bones is kind of…indisposed." Muffled coughing confirms his words, though Caroline doesn't seem to notice the noise.

"Well, is she bleeding out of her eyeballs?"

He pauses. "Well…no."

"_No? _If she isn't fatally wounded, dead already, or lying in a hospital somewhere, then get her to the courthouse in the next ten minutes or it'll be _your_ ass I'm prosecuting!"

"I'm coming," Brennan calls weakly from the bathroom. "Give me a moment."

"She's coming," Booth repeats to Caroline. Knocking lightly on the door, he cracks it open and glances inside. With a wince, he notes that Bones is in no condition to go anywhere. She's leaning over the toilet with her hair pulled back, her face pale and her expression haggard. She hasn't even changed out of her sweatpants and his t-shirt yet.

"I'll get you some water," he whispers, closing the door again.

"What? Water?" Caroline echoes, her voice dry as sandpaper. "Cherie, you won't believe this thing we have—it's called _water fountains_. Or vending machines. They're practically on every street corner, and I'm standing right next to one now. So it'd be in your best interest to focus on getting to the courthouse _first_, and getting your water _later, _understand? There's plenty of water; there's only one hearing for this case."

"But—"

"Are you or anyone else going to die if you do not ingest a liquid at this instant?"

"Well, no—"

"Then _what_ is the problem, Booth? Get the hell out of wherever you are now and get to where _I_ am. God, when's the last time I had to argue with you about getting to court on time?"

"Booth," Bones groans through the door, and he hurries to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. Returning, he pushes the door open and hands it to a sickly-looking Bones sprawled on the floor of the bathroom.

Kneeling, he sweeps back some of Bones' hair and says, "Caroline, I don't think we're making the court case."

Caroline's chorus of _"What? What _exactly _did you say, cherie?"_ bursts in his ear just as Bones protests, "No, I can do it. Don't tell her that, Booth."

"You're puking your guts out, Bones," he says, raising an eyebrow. "And Caroline can carry the case without us."

"Uh, _no_, Caroline _cannot_ carry the case without you," the prosecutor snaps. "And what's wrong with the doctor? Food poisoning?"

"She wants to know what's wrong," Booth whispers.

"Damn right she wants to know what's wrong," Caroline grumbles. "I want to know why my airtight case is about to go down the drain because I don't have my pet scientist confusing the defense with her super-talk."

Bones gives him a long glance, and he tilts his head in consideration. _Should we tell her? _Booth mouths. She shrugs in response, her eyes unsure. They still haven't told even their families, and most of the squint squad with the exception of Angela and Hodgins don't know. Should they tell Caroline now? He wonders how willing Bones is for everyone to know. As for him, he's been wanting to run around giddily telling everyone he knows since the moment he found out.

After a few seconds, Bones asks reluctantly, "Can you come up with another viable excuse?" Glancing down at herself, she admits, "I don't think I feel good enough to go to court."

"Caroline won't swallow anything but a really good excuse," Booth muses, forgetting the phone in his hand.

The prosecutor's sharp voice reminds him immediately. "Uh, cherie, don't delude yourself. Caroline won't swallow anything _period._ Tell me the truth right now so I can maybe get a delay from the judge, or I swear to God, I will come to where you are and I will eat you two alive. So _what_ is the problem?"

He gives Bones the _we're lost _look, and she shrugs helplessly in return. Clearing her throat, she says, "Tell her the truth."

With a returning half-shrug, Booth turns back to the phone and says nonchalantly, "Yeah, Caroline, I don't think we're making it to court today because Bones is having a bad case of morning sickness. Yes, you heard right, she's pregnant. And yes, it's what you're thinking, I'm the father. Any other questions?"

There's a long silence on the other end of the line, and Booth wonders if he's finally managed to shock Caroline Julian into silence. What do you know, Caroline Julian _is_ capable of being speechless. Pleased, Booth mentally pats himself on the back and thinks that telling the prosecutor was _so_ worth it, especially if he can tease the woman about it somewhere in the near future.

"Caroline?" he asks after a long moment, a smile in his voice. "I've never heard you this silent so long. Did I surprise you that badly?" At her continued silence, he adds teasingly, "You can admit it, I won't—"

"I'm not surprised," she interrupts dryly. "You two were bound to go at each other like rabbits soon enough. In fact, it was about time you two knocked your heads together and managed to rub two brain cells together long enough to get into bed. And to answer your question, no, I'm not speechless, cherie. I'm calculating."

"Calculating?" he repeats, confused. "Calculating what?"

"The good doctor wasn't showing when I saw her two days ago, so she must not be too far along. So, unless I failed my high school health class, she's not going into labor for another _eight months_ at the least, am I right?"

"Right," Booth agrees slowly, wondering where she's going with this.

"So is eight months happening in the next two hours, Booth?"

"Um…no?"

"So as I understand it, your lady scientist is pregnant with your child, not in any mortal danger, and not going into labor at this very moment. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Then why the _hell_ aren't you at the courthouse?" Caroline demands. "Unless the baby is coming out of the doctor as we speak, you had better be here before I take your own gun and shoot you with it. That goes for the both of you, understand?"

Booth lets out a long-suffering sigh and says, "I can make it now, but Bones looks like crap. There's no way she'll make the court time."

"Booth, there is a little thing called makeup and another little thing called coffee. Or whatever the hell else you feed pregnant women. I don't care what you do, I don't care if you do an African healing ritual and make a great hullaballoo, just get her here and make sure she doesn't look like she just climbed out of a bad horror movie. Do you hear me?"

He can't help but sigh in response, knowing it's a lost cause to try and argue. It's always been impossible to resist Caroline's demands. With a helpless shrug, Booth glances at Bones, who nods a bit more strongly this time. He helps her stand, brushes some hair out of her eyes, and asks, "You up to going to the courthouse?"

Steadying herself for a moment, she nods again. "Yes. I feel much better now."

"Good." To Caroline, he says, "Fine. We'll be there in twenty."

"Cherie, you'd better be here in ten, or else I _will_ take your gun and I _will_ shoot you in the foot, and you will _still_ give a testimony. _Capiche?_"

The sudden click and dial tone lets him know that she's hung up, and he shuts his phone with a sigh. "Bones, you okay?"

Nodding, she finishes off the water he fetched her and brushes past him to the bedroom. "I'll be fine, Booth. Give me a couple of minutes to freshen up and we can go."

"Caroline's holding them off," he calls after her, "but hurry. We're already late as it is."

As she tosses off his t-shirt and squirms into a dress-shirt, Bones calls curiously, "What did she say about the pregnancy? Did she say anything? How did she react?"

Chuckling, Booth shakes his head and answers, "How do you think she reacted, Bones? Caroline Julian-style."

Reappearing in the doorway looking miraculously more alive, Bones furrows her brow and says, "I don't know what that means."

"Come on," he says, jerking his head toward the front door. "That means we'd better be giving the best testimonies of our lives or else I'm a goner."

Bones smiles, picking up on his humor. She's been getting really good at that lately. "So she's comically threatening your life? I've noticed that she often uses hyperboles to get her point across."

"Come on," he repeats, ushering her out the door. "Yes, she said she'd kill me, and no, there's nothing really comical about it. And I assure you, it's not hyperbole. Caroline Julian's good enough to shoot me and get away with it."

"But I'd solve your murder," Bones returns, smiling. "I'm very good too."

Rolling his eyes fondly, Booth gives her a grin. "That's very comforting, Bones. But if we aren't at the courthouse in seven minutes, that's a very real possibility. So let's get moving, yeah?"

Taking her arm, he pulls her on down the stairs and onward into the sunlit afternoon.


	4. The Father

**A/N:** Yay, Max! He's always fun to write. Hope you guys aren't disappointed by this one either, because a lot of you seem to have really high hopes for Max's reaction.

Please review! Feedback always makes my day!

Enjoy the long chapter ;)

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><p>Brennan watches with a smile as Booth straightens his tie. Once. Twice. Then, with a frustrated sigh, he tugs it off completely and tosses it onto the bed.<p>

"I can't wear red," he says, shaking his head. "Isn't red a sign of aggressiveness or something? Anger?"

"Traditionally, in Anglo-American culture and in many others, red is a symbol of strong emotions," she tells him. "It can represent aggression, yes, but it also represents passion, strength, and vitality." After a moment, she adds shyly, "Red also symbolizes love."

He can't help but grin at the soft way she says _love_. Giving her a glance, he says, "You know, I'd wear the red tie just for that. But since we're going to meet someone who just might roast me over a fire-pit for just _looking_ at you wrong, I want to avoid any aggressive vibes."

Brennan laughs and remarks, "You're overreacting, Booth. It's just my father."

"It's never _just_ anything with Max," he mutters in return, rummaging through his collection of ties again. He shifts the red ones to a separate pile and considers the ones left over. Green, blue, one flamboyant yellow one that hurts his eyes, and a few mismatched fun ones. He fingers a diamond-patterned one. "What does blue represent?"

"Purity, peace, stability," she replies promptly. "Also, loyalty and security."

He grins. "That sounds like a good one." Slipping a solid, thin blue tie from the group, he wraps it around his upturned collar and ties it quickly. Tightening the knot, he spins around from the mirror and spreads his arms wide. "So, Bones? How do I look?"

From her vantage point on his bed, she tilts her head and smiles. "Very handsome."

"Good. I want to make a good impression."

"He already knows you, Booth," she says, clearly puzzled. "If he was going to form an opinion on you, he'd have done so already."

"I'm sure he has," Booth replies darkly. "Several opinions probably." At a thought, he brightens and adds, "But we didn't get into a fistfight or try to kill each other after our last encounter, so I guess that's an improvement."

"Although you had to arrest him for arrest for hitting the killer in the head with his cane," Brennan reminds him.

Booth groans. "Don't remind me. He understood though, right? The bowling shoes guy was going to press charges."

"Which you got dropped in exchange for a partial plea bargain."

"Right." He sighs. "That's got to count for something, right?" He brushes distractedly at some lint on his sleeve and straightens his tie again. "Is blue really okay? Do you think it's too passive? I don't want to look like I'll take a hit lying down. Maybe I should go back to the—"

"Booth," she interrupts, standing smoothly. She's still looks thin and gorgeous, barely showing under her flowing top. He admires the way her bangs fall in her eyes as she strides over and catches his hands, which are still fiddling with the tie.

"Stop," she says gently, pulling the tie comfortably tight and straightening the lapels of his suit jacket. "You look great. You're going to be fine."

Gazing down into her wide blue eyes, he can't fight the urge to kiss her, so he bends down and presses his lips against hers. She pulls herself up to meet him, and he closes his eyes, raising a hand to cup her cheek. God, she tastes good. Like seven years of waiting and finally, finally the sweet release at the end. He doesn't know how he's been able to resist this for so long because these days, it seems like he can't go five minutes without wanting to steal her breath away.

"All right," he says finally, pulling back with a smile. "I'm ready."

"If I'd known that was all it took to calm you down, I would have kissed you thirty minutes ago," she answers, grinning wryly. "Now are you ready? We're supposed to be at the diner in ten minutes."

"Ready," he agrees, giving the mirror a last glance. Well, blue tie or not, if Max is going to kill him, Max is going to kill him. There's not much Booth can do about it, except to fasten his holster very visibly at his hip and check twice that he has ammo. Not that he'll actually _shoot_ Bones' father, but there's always that possibility…

With a sigh, he follows Bones out the door of his apartment and tries to prepare himself for the confrontation ahead.

* * *

><p>Max is already waiting at the diner when they arrive, sitting in a booth by the window. Good, plenty of witnesses in case any murdering is going to happen. Booth slides into the seat after Bones, making sure he's got a good exit. He's probably going to look back on this and laugh at his paranoia, but for now, it's better safe than sorry. Much better safe than sorry.<p>

"Hi, Dad," Bones says, smiling as she greets him. "Good to see you."

Max gives her a long, scrutinizing look, rubbing his chin as he studies her. Finally, he replies, "Hey, Temperance. You look…different."

Booth chokes back a cough. Shooting him a look, Bones raises an eyebrow and, turning back to her father, asks, "What do you mean?"

After another long moment, Max shakes his head and leans back into his seat, his brow furrowed. "I don't know. Just…different." He gives her one last long look before shaking his head. "Oh, don't mind me. It's been two weeks since I last saw you; not much could've changed since then."

He doesn't suspect, does he? Booth gives a nervous chuckle and waves the server over, just as Bones slides him one of those looks of hers that she thinks is oh-so-sneaky but is actually very conspicuous. He doesn't miss the way Max's eyes narrow at the both of them, clearly trying to figure them out. _Oh, Bones_, Booth thinks. _I hope you break it to him slowly and calmly because I would really like to leave in one piece._

They order quickly, Booth and Brennan taking their regulars, and are left sitting somewhat awkwardly in silence. Booth has no idea what to say and how to even _start_ broaching the topic of grandchildren. Bones seems content to stare out the window at passerby, and Max is favoring them both with a piercing look that Booth thinks can see all the way into his soul. He shifts so his gun is just a bit closer to his fingers—precautions, just precautions.

Finally, Max asks, "So, you two ask me to lunch for a reason? We don't usually get together like this out of the blue."

Pulling her gaze back from the streets, Bones clears her throat, gives Booth a quick look, and turns her eyes onto her father. Folding her arms on the table, she says, "Yes, actually, there was something we wanted to talk to you about. First, though, I have to have your promise that you will stay calm and refrain from any attempt to hurt Booth."

Max's eyes widen and shoot over to the FBI agent in question. "Am I going to have a _reason_ to hurt Booth?" He leans forward across the table with a menacing gleam in his eye. "Did he do something to you, Tempe? If he did…"

The rest of the threat is left up to their imaginations, and Booth groans quietly and shakes his head, fighting the urge to hide his face in his hands. "Not the best start-up, Bones."

"Oh. Then let me rephrase that," she says quickly, holding out a hand to forestall her father. "Your initial reaction may be to threaten Booth, but let me assure you that any act on his part was consensual and not entirely his fault."

"You two are sleeping together?" Max guesses calmly. "Consensually. Nice to know you're not raping my daughter, Booth. Otherwise I might have to take you outside right now and put a bullet in your brain."

At that, Booth gives him a weak smile and says, "Bones has more to say."

Max's gaze switches back to his daughter. "There's more? Don't tell me he asked you to marry him."

Bones smiles. "No, it's not that. It's just that…"

She trails off slowly, turning her head to stare out the window. Her gaze follows someone in the crowd, and before Booth can ask what's wrong, she says urgently, "Booth, isn't that Bill Ferris? The suspect from the case?"

Suddenly alert, he leans over her lap and follows her line of sight, finding the hunched, dark-haired man immediately. He looks exactly as he'd looked on the security feed that had caught him stabbing a poor restaurant manager to death. Bones had picked him out in the middle of a busy noon street. Lucky.

"What the hell's he doing in this part of town?" Booth mutters, pushing his way hastily out of the booth. "Sorry, Max, job calls. This guys been running from a BOLO for three days." He turns to leave, taking a couple of steps before spinning around again. "Bones, _stay here_." It worried him enough when she'd run out into the field after him before; now that she's carrying his child, he's about a million times more cautious with her.

That said, he wheels around and rushes out of the diner, hand on his gun. Ferris has made his way up the street, walking unsuspectingly with his back to the diner, and Booth follows him, slowing his own pace. He's beginning to think that this might be a simple takedown (arrest him, send him to the station, get back to the diner in time to hear Bones give her father the announcement) when Ferris suddenly breaks out into a clearing in the crowd and launches into a sprint. Cursing, Booth shoves his way through the throng of street-goers and races after him, gun in hand. He watches Ferris, twenty feet ahead now, skid around a corner. Gritting his teeth, Booth pushes his way past an elderly couple, shouts an apology as he passes, and slides around the turn.

Only to find Bones standing there with Ferris' arm in a strong grip, her expression satisfied. She's panting slightly—she must've run to cut through the streets and flank Ferris—but she doesn't look too worse for wear. Ferris' face is contorted, and Booth guesses Bones has hit him where it hurts.

Still, he's angry. "Bones, what the _hell_ are you doing? I _told _you to stay in the diner!"

She shrugs. "What? I knew you'd chase him and he'd come out here. I thought it would be best to trap him."

"Bones," he snaps, "did you even think about the baby? What if you'd gotten hurt, or the guy had pulled a gun, or—"

He cuts off abruptly as Max rounds the corner too, panting hard and his expression bemused. "I see you got him."

"Yes, I did," Bones replies, her eyes on Booth. Her expression is a touch confused and annoyed as she looks at him, and he glances away, still too angry to say anything.

At that exact moment, Ferris shoves Bones away from him, breaking her hold and sending her staggering to the ground. He turns to run, and Booth just reacts. Lunging forward, he grabs the guy by his collar and throws him bodily against the window of the store display, viciously satisfied when he hears something crack. Shoving his forearm against Ferris' throat, he snarls, "Don't move. Don't you make a goddamn move, because I swear, I'll kill you."

His eyes wide, Ferris throws up his hands, shaking his head. "I didn't do anything. Who the hell are you? What's going on?"

"FBI," Booth snaps. "You're under the arrest for the murder of Kerry Jones, and I'm adding charges of assault on a federal officer."

The suspect's eyes narrow. "Man, I didn't touch you!"

"Yeah, well you did more than touch my partner," he growls, shoving a little harder. "Threw her to the ground, and that counts as assault on a federal officer." Pausing, he calls, "Bones, you okay?"

"I'm fine, Booth," she replies, her voice exasperated.

"You're lucky she's okay," Booth snarls. "Because if she'd even been _scratched_, I would've shot you in the knee, you understand?" And he's not exaggerating. If Bones had been hurt, if the baby had been hurt, he would've shot the guy without any qualms whatsoever.

"Being a little overprotective there, isn't he?" Max says from behind him.

"He's always like this," Bones says, and Booth gets the feeling she's shaking her head. "He's been even more overbearing lately."

"Not that I don't appreciate you protecting my girl, Booth," Max says cheerily, "but I'm pretty sure Tempe can handle anything anyone throws at her."

"That's a nice sentiment, Max," Booth retorts testily. "But when the woman you love is pregnant with your child, we'll see how you deal with her safety then."

Then he freezes. And stops. And stares straight ahead, hardly able to believe what he's just revealed, deadpan, without any warning whatsoever.

His anger dissolves instantly. It's replaced by a single, pervasive thought: he's a goner. Totally, completely dead. Max is going to think that he knocked Bones up, and then he's going to be six feet under before anyone says a word. Period. End of story. He probably won't even get to turn around.

But when a long, long moment passes without a punch in the eye or the sound of Max loading a shotgun, Booth risks a glance over his shoulder. Max is staring straight at him, unblinking, his expression very calm and very unreadable.

Very quietly, he asks, "Is that true, Tempe? Are you…pregnant?"

After a beat of hesitation, she answers with a smile, "Yes, I am. Booth is the father." Giving Booth a swift, reassuring glance, she adds, "I would like it if you would refrain from harming him until you have all the facts."

"Harming him?" Max repeats slowly, his gaze still alternating between the two of them as if he isn't sure of which one he wants to move toward first. "Now why would I do that?"

Bones nods and explains, "He's under the impression that you'll think he impregnated me outside of marriage and kill him."

An eyebrow goes up. "And he's wrong in thinking that because…?"

Oh God. He's totally dead.

"This isn't what you think," Booth interjects hastily. "And that wasn't how you were supposed to find out."

"Busted," Ferris mocks with a sneer.

"You shut up," Booth growls, yanking his handcuffs from his waist and roughly snapping them on the suspect's wrist. Spinning the guy around, he attaches the other cuff to a nearby railing and turns back around with a deep breath. "Now. Let's talk."

"Yes," Max says, nodding pointedly. "Let's talk. Tell me what happened." Shooting his daughter a narrow look, he adds, "He didn't take advantage of you, did he, Tempe? You can tell me if he did."

Before Booth can even open his mouth to protest, Bones says firmly, "Booth wouldn't do that, and you know it, Dad. Like I said, the experience was mutual."

"And he conveniently forgot to use protection?" Max suggests sardonically. "You got my daughter _pregnant_, Booth? Seriously? _Seriously?_" He takes a menacing step forward, and Booth takes a large one back.

"It was a spur of the moment thing," Booth defends, holding up his hands in a peace gesture. "Neither of us were ready—"

"So you pressured her when she wasn't _ready?"_ Max repeats darkly, stepping forward again.

Booth has to resist the urge to take his gun in hand, just to feel its comforting weight. "Max, that's not what I said. Let's everybody just calm down…"

"Don't you tell me to calm down!" Max returns, his expression frighteningly masked. "You got my daughter _pregnant!_ As in, I'm going to be a _grandfather._ On a _spur of the moment thing?"_

Booth winces. "All right, so that was a poor choice of words. It wasn't _intentional._"

"So you had unprotected sex with my daughter without thinking of the consequences?" Max rephrases, arching disapproving eyebrow.

Booth shakes his head quickly. "No, that's not what I meant. I mean, yes, it was unprotected, and yes, I didn't—_we_ didn't think about it, but it was an accident—no, not an accident, but it's not like I _planned_ for it to happen. I just made a mistake—"

"Are you calling my daughter a mistake?" Max breaks in, his voice eerily calm.

Oh hell. Booth decides to shut up before he sticks his foot further into his mouth. Instead, he shoots a wide-eyed, helpless look at Bones, who smiles and mercifully decides to step in. "Dad, that isn't what he meant. What he means to say is that while the pregnancy is unplanned, we both welcome it. We're having the baby, Dad, and we're doing it together." She positively glows as she gives him the news, her face lighting up with a bright, sincere smile that eases Booth's anxiety just a bit. But Max is still sporting an inscrutable look, so it's too early to relax yet.

Before any of them can say anything else, Ferris calls from behind them, "So what the hell is going on? Is this an arrest or a soap opera?"

"You _shut up,_" Booth retorts, barely sparing the guy a glance.

With a scowl, the suspect snaps back, "I'm reporting you for police brutality."

"Trust me," Booth mutters lowly, rubbing a hand across his eyes, "you have not _seen_ police brutality."

"I need to speak to Booth alone," Max announces after a moment, his arms crossed. "Tempe, would you mind stepping away for a second?"

Oh, that does _not_ sound good. Hurriedly, Booth says, "I have to get this guy to the SUV first." Without waiting for an answer, he unlocks the cuff from the railing and re-cuffs it around Ferris' other wrist. Giving Bones a quick look to make sure she's really all right, he heads back up the street to his SUV, where he opens the door and shoves Ferris into the backseat.

"Stay," he orders, slamming the door shut. Then, with a deep breath, he turns around again to face Bones' father.

"A moment, Tempe?" Max repeats, giving his daughter a small smile. Oh good, a smile. Then it can't be _that_ bad.

Right?

After a second, Bones comes over and presses a quick, light kiss to his lips. Booth doesn't miss the way Max's eyes bulge out, and that just escalates his anxiety even further. Oh, Bones, what a time for PDA.

"I'll see you later," she whispers.

"If he doesn't kill me," he whispers back, giving her a pained look.

"He wouldn't _kill_ you necessarily," she answers encouragingly. "Perhaps threaten you a little, but I doubt he'd lay a hand on you."

Booth rolls his eyes. "Thanks, Bones. Wish me luck."

"You won't need luck," she replies, patting him on the arm before turning away and retreating into the diner. Then it's just him and Max standing next to the SUV.

"So," he says uncomfortably into the silence, toeing a crack in the pavement.

"So she's pregnant," Max says, his voice carefully controlled, which is scary enough.

"She is," Booth agrees, clasping his hands behind his back.

"And you're the father."

"I am."

Max nods and then looks straight at him, his gaze piercing. "And you're going to take care of her."

It's not a question. Meeting his eyes steadily, Booth answers solemnly, "Yes, I am. To the best of my ability. She's not doing this alone."

"No, she's not." With a heavy sigh, Max shakes his head and leans back against the SUV. "She's a strong woman, my Temperance. She can handle a lot of what life throws at her, and she's been doing that for a long time. But, Booth, a baby is something she can't handle alone. So if this is a temporary fix, if you're just sticking it out until the baby is born or until you get tired of her—"

"No," Booth says sharply. "I would never leave her."

Max levels a meaningful look on him. "She can't do this alone. If you left her, she'd break because she doesn't know how to do this. And if that happened, she wouldn't recover. You know that."

"It isn't something she'll _have_ to recover from," Booth says staunchly, "because that won't happen. I mean what I said, Max—she's not doing this alone."

They meet eyes for a long moment, and Booth forces himself not to look away. He stares into those blue eyes, so like Bones', and hopes Max sees good things in his own. He hopes Max can see his determination to keep Bones safe and happy. He hopes Max can see that Bones is anything but alone in this, that Booth will love their kid to death, and that there is nothing in all the world that could make him walk away from what he has now. He hopes Max can see that Bones is going to be all right because Booth is with her.

Finally, Max glances away with a small smile and says, "She's happy. Truly happy for the first time in a long time. I guess I have you to thank for that?"

No murderous intent behind those words. Booth lets out a breath in relief. "Yes, I guess so." After a moment of hesitation, he adds, "You know I'll give her everything she needs. There's nothing to worry about."

Giving him a knowing look, Max nods and says, "Of course. You're not the kind of guy to run from responsibilities." Smiling, he admits, "You're the best one for her, you know. She really loves you."

"And I love her."

"I knew it," Max says, beaming, "just like I knew you'd take care of her. No doubt from the beginning."

At that, Booth pauses, confused. "Then why…"

"Did I go all killer-dad on you?" Max finishes with a chuckle. "For one thing, just to make sure, even though I knew you were good for it. For another…well, I just couldn't resist making you squirm."

For a moment, Booth just stares at him incredulously, wondering if this is a test. But when Max laughs at his expression, he knows that it was a serious reason, and that Max has never really been threatening him to begin with. He's just been…_messing_ with him. With a federal agent. With _Seeley Booth._

And he'd been so nervous. Damn.

Instead of feeling offended or annoyed, though, Booth finds himself surprisingly lighthearted and even a bit amused. After a moment, he chuckles too and asks, "Did I really squirm?"

"Man," Max says, clapping him on the back with a wide smile, "you looked so skittish when you spilled the beans that I almost felt sorry for you. _Almost_. Doesn't change the fact that you knocked up my daughter though."

"Doesn't change the fact that she's completely happy with it either," Booth returns wryly, grinning too. "She's _happy_, Max, and I'm going to do my best to keep it that way."

"You keep it that way," Max agrees. "And you keep her safe too—by all means, go all overprotective on her. I'll even help you."

"I think I can handle it," Booth says amusedly. "You just keep yourself out of any trouble, and you should be seeing a grandkid in eight months."

"I think I can handle it," Max echoes with a smile. "You take care of yourself, Booth. And keep her happy, or you'll be hearing from me."

"Aye-aye, sir," Booth says, giving him a little salute.

He holds out his hand, and Max shakes it briefly before turning around and starting off down the street. After a couple of steps, he turns around and says, "Tell Tempe I'll be over to talk to her tomorrow. For now, you'd better get that guy to the station."

Glancing back at Ferris, Booth nods. "Yeah, I'll tell her. See you later."

The instant Max disappears around the street corner, Bones pushes open the diner door and hurries out. "What did he say?" she asks anxiously.

"Thought _I_ was supposed to be the nervous one," Booth replies with a grin.

"I'm not _nervous_," she denies, shaking her head. "I'm simply curious. He _is_ my father, after all."

"Right," he says, nodding. He can see her need for approval, even under all that nonchalance. As much as Bones says she doesn't care, he knows she does care, intensely. So he reassures her, "He was happy for you. Really happy. And he'll be by to see you tomorrow."

"Are you sure he approved?" she asks, her tone just barely fretful. "I'm not sure if he's okay with unmarried parents. Maybe he'd—"

"Bones," he interrupts quickly, giving her a wide smile, "he's fine with it. He loves you, and he wants you to be happy. Aren't you happy?"

She gives him a deadpan look. "Of course I am."

"Then what's the problem?" Chuckling, he gives her a quick kiss and says, "Bones, everything's fine. Everything's going to be just fine, so let's not worry about anything until we have to, all right? Your dad's okay with it, your dad's okay with _me_, and everything's just perfect. So get in the car and let's go."

Still, she hesitates, biting her lip. "But…"

He pauses, leaning on his open car door. "Bones, what did you tell me this morning? That I was overreacting? Yeah, that's you right now. It's fine. He _loves_ it, okay?" He remembers suddenly how her kiss had made him feel stronger, so he pulls her up to him and brushes his lips across hers, smiling as he breaks away. "Better?"

With a sigh, she smiles back and says, "Yes. Thank you."

"Everything's going to be fine," he repeats, getting in the car. "Your dad didn't completely murder me, and things can't get any worse than him stabbing me in the back. So I have to say, telling him out pretty well." He's feeling pretty good after breaking the news.

"It did, didn't it?" Bones agrees, sliding into her seat.

"You two are like a really, really bad TV drama," Ferris groans suddenly from the backseat. Booth jumps, having almost forgotten that he was there.

"What did you say?"

"I said you're like one of those depressingly peppy couples on TV," Ferris sneers. "The kind that never works out and breaks up in the end because they're so stupid."

Booth backs out of the parking spot and says cheerfully, "You sit there and shut up. You and all your depressing pessimism and your evil killer tendencies aren't going to ruin my mood."

The guy shoots them both a rebellious glare. "And what if I don't shut up?"

"Then Bones and I are going to murder you and hide your body so well that no one will ever find your body," Booth replies with a bright smile. "Any questions?" When no answer comes, he says, "Good," and reaches over to take Bones' hand.

What a good day. Max is satisfied, Bones is satisfied, and he is satisfied. Buoyed by the fact that he wasn't permanently maimed by the lunch encounter, he shoots Bones his charm smile. She smiles blindingly back at him, and that's enough happiness to have him whistling all the way back to the police station.


	5. The Past

**A/N:** I really wanted to write this chapter from the beginning, but I don't know how you guys will feel about it. Hope you enjoy as always, and please leave a review! This extra-long chapter is for all you lovely people who leave me kind words to feast upon ;)

* * *

><p>"I never thought I'd see the day I would get to tell Parker he'd have a little brother," Booth says with a wide grin, rubbing his hands together. "God, I can't wait."<p>

"Or a sister," Brennan reminds him quickly.

"Or a sister," he agrees, nodding. "Yeah, I've already got a kid to play catch with and rough up. It's time for a girl."

"You think so?" she asks, pleased. Truthfully, she's been hoping for a girl. She doesn't know why—after all, she'll love the child no matter what—but she's been leaning toward having a daughter. Now, to hear Booth say the same makes her grin in excitement.

"Definitely," Booth says, parking the SUV by the curb and opening the door. "Come on, Bones. We're here."

Rebecca's house on Saturday morning. Booth has custody of Parker all weekend, enough time for them to break the news to him and to make sure he's all okay with it. Brennan is a little nervous for Parker's reaction while Booth claims he has absolutely no worries that his son will love their new son or daughter. But there's some worry in his eyes too, she can see it. They both need the approval to some degree.

"Seeley," Rebecca greets them as she opens the door. "Doctor Brennan. How nice to see you."

Brennan smiles in return and says, "It's been a while. You look well."

"I've been okay," Rebecca replies. Turning, she shouts back into the house, "Parker! Your dad's here."

For several long moments, no answer comes, and Booth raises an inquiring eyebrow. "Where is he?"

With a sigh, Rebecca pushes back her hair with a hand and explains, "He's in a bad mood. Something happened in school yesterday, but he won't tell me what."

"Is he hurt?" Booth asks, his voice suddenly sharp. Brennan hears that immediate protective edge to his voice and wonders if he will one day be just this protective with their own child.

"No, no," replies Rebecca, shaking her head, "it's nothing like that. He's fine, physically. I just don't know what's wrong with him. He was fine when he went to school, but when he came home, he was all moody and went straight to his room."

"Well, is he in there now?" Booth asks, brow furrowed.

"Yeah."

"Okay." With a quiet sigh, he heads into the house, and Brennan stops in the doorway, watching him disappear around the corner of the hallway. Booth knows how to deal with this, she thinks. It'd be best if she let him have some time alone with his son.

Rebecca exhales slowly and leans against the doorjamb. "I'm sorry about this. Parker sometimes gets in these moods, but Seeley's pretty good at snapping him out of it."

Waving a hand, she answers, "It's fine. Booth and I are in no hurry."

Crossing her arms, Rebecca regards her with a small, cryptic smile. "You two are together now, aren't you?"

Brennan pauses. "As in romantically?" At the answering nod, she says, "Then yes. We are together."

The other woman's smile widens. "I knew it would happen eventually. Seeley was just…_with_ you in a way he never was with me. There's something different about him when he looks at you, you know. I'm just surprised it took him so long to figure it out."

"There were…delays on both of our parts," Brennan answers truthfully. "But now we're together."

Rebecca nods pointedly and gives her a long, knowing look. Brennan shifts uncomfortably under the scrutiny but bears it, wondering what the other woman sees. It's been two and a half weeks since she told Booth about the baby, and she's beginning to show, ever-so-slightly. Is it that visible yet? Or is it just as imperceptible as Brennan thinks it is?

Rebecca answers that question soon enough, with any preamble. "You're carrying his child, aren't you?"

Stunned, Brennan just stares at her, eyes wide and thought process frozen. At this, Rebecca laughs softly and says, "Relax, Doctor Brennan. I won't tell Seeley I know."

"No, no," she hears herself say, shaking her head. "It's all right. I was just surprised that you knew. How did…?"

"I know?" Rebecca guesses with a wry smile. "Temperance—can I call you that? Okay. Temperance, I've been pregnant too. Granted, that was a long time ago, but I think I can tell when someone's expecting. Your face is fuller, and you've got this light in your eyes."

Brennan shoots a look down at her abdomen. "Can you tell, physically?"

Rebecca shakes her head. "No, you're still pretty flat. But Seeley's got the pregnant look too."

"Pregnant look?" she echoes in surprise. Men have a _pregnant look? _

Chuckling, Rebecca explains, "There was a way Seeley looked at me when I was having Parker. You know, like I was the most precious thing he'd ever seen, and he moved carefully, like he didn't want to hurt me. He was so protective it was ridiculous; half the time I felt like _he_ was the one having the baby. But it made me feel safe, you know? There's that way he looks at you that makes you feel…just _safe_. Like it'll all be okay because he's looking out for you."

Brennan nods but doesn't respond because she knows _exactly_ what Rebecca is talking about. Booth looks at her in a way that no man has ever looked at her before, in a way that makes her deliciously warm from her head all the way to her toes. He looks at her in a way that makes her face the pregnancy with a lighthearted eagerness that the old Brennan would never have had, because the woman Brennan has become knows that behind that warm look is a promise of safety. Of warmth and happiness and never-failing loyalty that she has never found from anyone else before. And it will all turn out perfectly because when Booth is looking at her like that, there is nothing in the world that is beyond her reach.

Yes. She knows exactly what Rebecca is talking about.

"Anyway," Rebecca says, breaking the silence, "congratulations to you both. You're a very lucky woman, Doctor Brennan."

"Yes," she murmurs in reply. "Many women never have children no matter how hard they try."

"Not just about the baby," Rebecca says with a small laugh. "I mean about Seeley too." She fixes Brennan with a meaningful look and repeats, "You're a very lucky woman."

With a nod, she smiles and says, "I know. Thank you."

At that moment, Booth reappears in the hallway, a shrieking Parker slung in his arms. "Clear the way!" he shouts, a laugh in his voice. "Bones, open the car door, will you?"

She obliges quickly, and he barrels down the hallway with Parker struggling in his arms. They reach the SUV and Booth tosses his son into the backseat, whipping out his handcuffs and making a great show of restraining Parker to the car door. Parker gives a few half-hearted punches before succumbing to giggles, pulling at the loose cuffs.

"What's going on here?" Rebecca asks in amusement, crossing her arms as she comes to stand by the door.

"I didn't want to come," Parker declares with a mock-glare. "So Dad _kidnapped_ me!"

Hiding a smile, Rebecca turns a stern look on Booth and asks, "Seeley, is this true?"

"Yes, ma'am, every bit of it," he reports back with a solemn nod. "But I'm a federal agent, so it's all authorized."

"Mom, don't listen to him!" Parker shouts, yanking enthusiastically at the cuffs.

"Whoa there, kiddo," Booth laughs, catching his son's wrist and holding it still. "You're going to hurt yourself."

He moves to unlock the cuffs, but Parker shakes his head vehemently. "You have to make it look real," he whispers loudly, brow furrowed. "You _promised_."

With a fond sigh, Booth says sternly, "Parker Booth, you're under arrest for…"

"Killing someone," Parker suggests, failing to hide a snicker.

"…killing someone," Booth repeats, raising an eyebrow. "Sit still and don't make noise or I'll have to shoot you, okay? Come on, Bones, let's get this delinquent to the station."

He rounds the SUV and slips into the front seat, leaving Brennan to say goodbye to Rebecca. Giving the other woman a friendly smile, Brennan offers, "I'll see you later then."

"I'll see you," Rebecca returns. Glancing fondly at Parker in the backseat, she says, "Seeley's always been able to cheer Parker up. He's got a touch with kids. I know he's going to be just as amazing with yours."

She certainly hopes so. The thought of Booth scrambling around someday with their own child makes her warm with a strange mix of desire and joy. "Thank you." After a moment, she adds, "You're very lucky too, to have Parker. He's a very well-behaved child."

Chuckling, Rebecca rolls her eyes and replies, "Don't I know it. Have him back to me on Monday morning, all right?"

Behind them, Booth honks the horn and calls, "Bones, come on! We don't have all day, you know."

"I'm coming," she calls back, and with a last smile at Rebecca, she takes her place in the passenger seat. With a wave, they're pulling away down the street, and Brennan settles into the ride, a smile still playing on her lips.

* * *

><p>"Where are we going?" Parker pipes up from the backseat. "I'm hungry."<p>

"Killers don't get to ask questions," Booth returns wryly, glancing up at his son in the rearview mirror.

"Well, what if I just robbed a store?" Parker asks. "Because I'm really hungry."

"Robbers don't get any say either."

"What if I just _hit_ someone then?"

"What if you just weren't a criminal at all?" Booth counters with a grin. "Tired of the handcuffs yet?"

"No, they're cool."

"Is his fascination with criminal activities worrying?" Brennan asks lowly, trying to analyze exactly how Booth handles his son. She takes everything into careful consideration, wanting to be as good a parent to their child as Booth is with Parker.

At that, Booth laughs. "No, Bones, it's fine. He's going through a phase, that's all. All kids want to be villains some time in their lives. It's an experience, Bones."

"Oh." She doesn't see the logic of allowing Parker to fantasize about killing someone, but if Booth thinks it's okay, it must be. He knows much more about these things than she does.

Booth, for his part, notices Bones watching their interactions carefully, as if she's cataloguing every detail the way she catalogues bones. How cute can she get? He loves how she already cares for their kid enough to be worried about being a good parent. He loves how she gets that furrow in her brow when she's really concentrating on something, and he loves how her eyes flicker from him to Parker and back.

"Are we going to eat soon?" Parker asks brightly. "Can we get pizza?"

"Sure," Booth relents, turning up to his apartment. "We'll order some when we get inside, okay?" They pull in, and he gets out to unlock Parker from his restraints. Before the kid can protest, he sweeps him up in his arms and tickles his sides. Shrieking with laughter, Parker kicks and struggles, and Booth lets out an evil laugh as he carries his son through the apartment building doors and up the stairs. A few passerby give them amused looks, and Booth grins a hello to them as he passes. He can hear Bones coming just behind them, her cute little chuckle cutting through Parker's ruckus.

They make it to the apartment door, where he tosses the keys to Bones and continues to torture Parker. They stumble into the apartment, and Booth tosses Parker onto the couch with a roar, diving after him. Bones stares at them both, sprawled on the couch, and shakes her head with a fond laugh.

"Do you want me to order the pizza?" she asks, heading for the kitchen.

"You want cheese?" Booth asks Parker, raising an eyebrow.

"I want pepperoni too," Parker replies, still breathless. "And sausage and anchovies."

"Anchovies?" Booth repeats, wrinkling his nose. "Since when did you like anchovies?"

"Since _forever!"_

Booth rolls over with a laugh and accuses, "Liar." He reaches out a hand to snatch his son up, but Parker ducks away with a scream of laughter, darting away toward Bones. He grabs her shirt and throws himself behind her, peering out warily at Booth.

"Save me, Bones!" he cries, clutching her legs.

"Booth," she says sternly, "you shouldn't terrorize your child like this." But her eyes totally give her away, and Booth just shrugs and laughs, leaning back into the couch cushions. After a moment, Brennan gives him an exasperated smile and finds the phone to call for pizza. Parker wanders off to play with something in the kitchen, and Booth stretches out on the couch, closing his eyes.

A knock on the door breaks him out of his doze, and he sits up slowly with a yawn. "Bones, we expecting anyone?"

She comes out of the kitchen with a bemused look on her face. "No. Angela and Hodgins are having a date tonight, and Cam and the others are at the lab."

"All right, stay there. I'll get it." He gets up off the couch and pads over to the door with another yawn. Rubbing his eyes, he opens it and glances out.

Everything inside him snaps tight with tension, and he moves instantly to block the doorway, making sure Bones or Parker won't be able to see outside.

"What are you doing here?" he demands through clenched teeth.

Outside on the doorstep, Jared gives him a crooked smile. "Hey, Seeley. Long time no see."

Booth shifts his eyes to the other man standing on his doorstep. Even in a thick black overcoat and hunched over, even though Booth hasn't seen him in over twenty years, the man is easily recognizable. It's hard to forget those big, meaty hands and the hard gleam in those dark eyes.

"What's he doing here?" Booth asks shortly, his grip on the doorknob painfully tight.

Jared shrugs. "We were in town."

"And what in hell made you think it was okay to bring him here?" he snaps. His voice lowering, he growls, "My son is here, and so is Bones. I'll ask you again: what the hell is he doing here?"

"Not even going to invite me in, Seeley?"

At the gravelly, sneering voice, Booth stiffens and has to resist the urge to simply slam the door shut. It's been years since he's heard that voice, but he can still hear it in his head sometimes, that voice that used to scare him to death. Even now, it makes his hand tremble slightly, remembering things he hasn't for a long time.

"Who is it, Booth?" Bones calls from inside, coming up behind him, and he forces himself back to the present.

"No one," he answers tightly, eyes fixed on the visitors. "Go back inside, Bones."

But she must hear something in his voice, because instead of obeying, she comes close enough to touch his shoulder, tip-toeing to try to see over his shoulder. "Booth…"

He shifts to cover her, but it's too late. The man outside laughs throatily and asks, "This your lady friend, Seeley?"

Switching his gaze to his brother, Booth says forcefully, "Get him out of here. Now."

Jared doesn't move. "Seeley…"

"That's no way to welcome your father," the other man says, his eyes gleaming with the hard light that Booth remembers.

Behind him, he hears Bones gasp quietly and repeat, "Father?"

"Bones," he says quietly through gritted teeth, "get back inside."

"Don't be rude," his father says, starting forward. Booth tries to bar his way, but Jared helps open the door, and before he can stop them, they've pushed back both him and Bones and have made their way to the living room. Cursing under his breath, Booth pushes Bones behind him and hurries after them, praying Parker is locked in the bathroom or something.

No such luck. Parker's sitting on the couch, his eyes wide as he stares up at the strangers. Clenching his fist, Booth grabs Jared's sleeve and mutters angrily, "What the _hell_ was that?"

"Can't be rude to the old man," his brother replies nonchalantly. "What's the problem anyway, Seeley? He's sober. Has been for years."

"So he says," Booth growls. He tries to grab Parker from the couch, but his father blocks his way.

"Don't you think it's time I got to know my grandson?" he asks pleasantly, and Booth fights the urge to punch him.

"Stay away from my son," he snarls low in his throat.

Parker, though, is as curious as he's always been. Leaning forward, he asks, "Who are they, Daddy?"

Before Booth can respond, Jared crouches down and explains, "I'm your uncle, buddy, Uncle Jared. This here's your grandpa. Bet you didn't know about him before, did you? Yep, it's Grandpa Aaron. Say hello."

"Parker, don't—"

"Come here, you," Aaron Booth says with a smile, hoisting Parker up into his arms. "So you're Parker, eh? You're a big boy, aren't you?" He shifts with the weight and groans.

"He's my grandpa?" Parker asks in surprise, glancing at Booth for confirmation. After a moment of hesitation, Booth nods tightly.

"Booth," Bones whispers, coming up behind him. She gives him an anxious glance, and he knows she's confused. She doesn't know much about his father, does she? Just that he's an alcoholic and it got so bad Hank Booth had to rescue the boys. She doesn't know about the beatings or the fear, but she knows enough to worry. He grits his teeth and reaches back to take her hand, both to reassure her and to make sure she stays behind him.

"What are you doing here, Dad?" Booth asks lowly. It's been forever since he last saw his father. Another lifetime. His old, sorry excuse for a parent doesn't belong in this clean-cut, good life he's carved out for himself. He doesn't belong here, among the good things Booth has found in life.

Setting Parker down, Aaron shrugs. "Like your brother said, we were in town. Wanted to see how you were doing, kid. Been a long time."

"No kidding," Booth mutters under his breath. Louder, he says, "So you're here. What now?" That was the question, wasn't it? So the guy had struck out in life, drowned himself in a bottle, and ended up beating his kids half to death. And now he wants…what, exactly? Booth has no idea what to expect. What can a man who is barely even his father want from him now?

After a brief pause, Aaron says lightly, "Well, you could offer a man a drink, for one. Courtesy and all."

Booth stiffens instantly, and he knows Bones can feel it because she takes a quick step forward, her hand a steadying force in his. A _drink?_ Twelve years of practically inhaling alcohol and whacking his kids around and now he really expects his son to hand him a _drink?_

Is he fucking kidding?

"Dad," Jared says slowly, "that might not be the best idea."

Pointedly ignoring Booth's thunderous expression, Aaron waves a dismissive hand and says, "Relax. Everybody relax. It was a joke, okay? Jeez, can't take one, Seeley?"

"I don't joke about that," Booth answers tightly, his grip painful on Bones' fingers. He knows he must be hurting her so he makes a conscious effort to release her hand, but she squeezes his fingers without letting go.

After a beat of silence, Bones calls softly, "Parker, come here." He's glad she says that because there's a roar of emotion in him that won't let him think straight. His father is here. _Here_. In his apartment, after over twenty years of absence.

What the _hell_ is he supposed to do?

Thankfully, Parker obediently crosses the room to Bones, who takes him and tucks him behind her, effectively making them a chain with Booth in front. He's glad he's between both of them and any potential danger. His eyes dart over to the safe in the front hallway where his gun is—too far for him to reach. Damn it. He's fairly certain it won't get that far, but just in case…

"What?" Aaron asks, a sneer in his voice. "You don't trust me with your kid?"

"No," Booth answers, simply and sharply. "Bones, take Parker and go into the bedroom."

"Booth…" she says, her touch lingering on his arm. Clearly, she doesn't want to leave him alone. But he doesn't want her here, in the same room as his father. Not with this man who can be smiling one moment and fly into a rage in the next. Even if he's sober, even if he's cleaned up, Booth doesn't trust him. He could never trust him.

"Seeley," Jared says with a flippant laugh, "come on, man, don't be like that. It's Dad, okay? And he's sober, so chill out, man, and let's just talk."

"How long have you been with him?" Booth asks, not moving.

His brother shrugs. "Two, three days. He called me, wanted to know how we were."

Right. He wanted to get to know them now? After all these years of silence? Booth is completely prepared to throw both of them out into the hallway without any further ado, but Bones squeezes his hand and whispers, "Booth? Can I talk to you?"

After a moment, he gives her a tight nod and tells Jared, "Keep Dad in the living room, all right? I'll be right back." Then, taking Parker and Bones by the hand, he pulls both of them into the kitchen. Once his father is out of sight, he releases them both and turns away, taking a deep, shaky breath.

"Booth," Bones says, louder this time. She comes over to stand by him and says softly, "Are you all right?"

He tries to smile and knows he fails miserably. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just…unexpected. I haven't seen him practically since I was a kid."

She reaches out an offering hand, and he takes it gratefully, trying to focus on her warmth instead of on his thoughts. Still, the questions whirl round and round in his mind. Why here and why now? Why not ten years ago? Hell, why not when Booth had still been a kid, when he'd still needed a father? He's got good things now. He's got Bones and Parker and a life. He doesn't need complications, not now when things have finally simplified themselves. He can't handle complications.

"I think," Bones says quietly, hesitatingly, "you should talk to him."

He jerks in surprise and pulls away, giving her a narrow-eyed look. "Bones, he was never a father to me. He was the stranger that came home drunk when he came home at all and fell asleep on the floor. I'm not going to talk to him. I don't owe him anything."

"You don't," she agrees gently. "But he's still your father. You told me about the day you spent with him, remember? That was a good day, and that was why you wanted the stadium seats. To remember that good day. Doesn't it mean something that you would want to hang onto that?"

Does it? Does it mean something that he's still clutching onto that memory, to _that_ father, and not the one that threw beer bottles at the TV?

"I can't," he says brusquely, shaking his head. "He's not my father."

"Booth." She touches his face, turning him toward her and looking straight at him. "I think you'll regret it if you don't talk to him. I…" After a beat of hesitation, she pushes on. "I hated my father too. I felt betrayed that he'd left us, and when I knew he was alive, I was determined to hate him then too. But…now we've gotten to know each other, and I'm glad we did. I'm glad I gave him the chance."

A chance. That's all anyone ever needs, isn't it? Is it worth it? Maybe, maybe not. But he won't know unless he tries, right? After all, he has only one father, and if he turns down this opportunity, he may never have another one. Maybe it _is_ possible to change. Maybe _sober_ actually means something this time.

Maybe she's right.

He laughs softly and shakes his head again. "When did you become the heart person, Bones?"

She smiles too and shrugs. "Angela would say that the pregnancy hormones are making me overly emotional."

"I think you've just got some experience in the daddy area that I don't," he says with a smile, leaning over to kiss her.

"Ew."

They break apart with a laugh, and Booth glances over in amusement at Parker, who's half-covering his eyes with his hand. Ruffling his hair, Booth says, "Come on, kiddo. Let's see about your grandpa, okay?" Taking Bones' hand, he returns to the living room to find Jared and his father seated on the couch. Thankfully, nothing seems out of place. He pushes Bones into the armchair and pulls up chairs for both Parker and himself. Then he coughs awkwardly and wonders what the hell to say.

Finally, Aaron asks, surprisingly pleasantly, "So, how're you doing, kid?"

"Good," he answers uncomfortably. "Doing good. What, uh…so what are you up to?"

"Construction working," Jared replies quickly, grinning and clapping his hands together. "Dad does house-building, that kind of stuff. Cool, huh?"

"Yeah," he agrees flatly, "cool." _Cool_ in a sense that his father has a job at all. That's a relief. It seems like he hasn't been doing too badly all these years then. The old man's got clothes that fit and at least looks clean, which is more than could be said for him back then.

"So," Aaron says, leaning forward in his seat, "I hear you're a big-shot cop now."

Booth nods. "FBI. I've been doing it for a while." His gaze shifts to Bones and he adds, "Actually, this is my partner, Doctor Temperance Brennan. We've been working together for…what, seven years, Bones?"

"Almost eight," she corrects, offering a friendly smile. "I work with Booth in a forensic capacity."

"Work?" Aaron echoes wryly, raising a suggestive eyebrow. "Maybe there's something else going on there, eh?"

Booth automatically bristles at his insinuating tone, but Bones says quickly, "Yes, you're right. Booth and I are together romantically as well."

Another time, he'd have been proud that Bones would be the one to volunteer the information, but right now, he's just concentrating on being courteous. He's usually good at this stuff, being approachable. He works with all sorts of suspects and some of them respond well to empathy. But right now, when he looks at his father, he can't help but see that angry, terrifying man with a fist raised. So he averts his eyes and tries to smile.

"Congratulations!" Jared says with a grin. "Last time I saw you two, you were so backwards it almost hurt to look at. Good to know you've finally straightened yourselves out."

"Yeah, we did," Booth replies, forcing a smile in return. "It's been good."

He notices Bones shoot him an inquisitive look, raising her eyebrow. She has that look on she's been wearing for a couple of weeks now, the one that says _Should we tell them?_ At that, he realizes all over again how she's grown. A year ago, she would have just blurted it out without considering him. A year ago, it would have just been _logical_ to break the news to them. But now she's asking, and he wants to give.

So he says, eyes on Bones as he talks, "Yeah, actually, we wanted to tell you something. Bones is…well, she's pregnant." Shifting his gaze to his father, he repeats with a wide smile, "Bones is pregnant. I'm going to be a father again!"

For a moment, there's silence. Then Jared breaks out into a mirroring smile, exclaims, "That's great, man!" and rises to shake his hand. But Booth's eyes are fixed on his father, watching for a reaction. There's nothing on the old man's face, just a blank, unreadable mask. He doesn't know why he needs to see something so badly, he just knows he needs to see _something._ Anything.

Maybe there's something in him that still needs a father after all.

After a long moment, Aaron Booth laughs. He _laughs_. It's not a friendly laugh, it's not a proud father laugh. It's a mocking laugh. One that makes Booth stiffen.

"You did it again?" his father chortles. "You knocked up _two_ women and didn't marry either of them? How many bastards you got out there, Seeley?"

He's on his feet in an instant, so furious he can barely breathe. "Don't you _dare_ call my son that. Don't you _dare_."

Aaron looks unrepentantly up at him and sneers, "What? It's the truth, kid."

"So it wasn't the drink," Booth snarls in return. "You were always just a cruel son of a bit—" He cuts himself off abruptly, remembering Parker sitting behind him. Turning, he finds his son watching the confrontation with wide, frightened eyes. Softening his tone just slightly, he orders, "Go to my room, Parker."

To his relief, his son slides off the chair instantly and almost runs to obey him. There's one element safely out of the way of his father's twisted smile and hard eyes. Now he shifts his gaze to Bones, but she shakes her head firmly. He knows he can't argue with her so he turns to face his father again.

The man's giving him a cold smile. "You're not teaching the boy, Seeley. He's going to grow up soft, you know. I raised you to survive anything. Not to run off if I told you to."

"Is that what you call _raising me?"_ Booth retorts harshly. "Because that sure as hell wasn't any parenting to me."

Now his father stands too, his smile fierce. "You always were a troublesome kid, boy. You never listened to anything I said, and you never helped me when I asked."

"Maybe because you were drunk ninety-nine percent of the time and hitting me the other one percent," Booth shouts back, his fists clenching. "Maybe because half the time you were too hammered to move, and you only opened your mouth to tell me to run to the store to get more beer!"

Aaron's eyes narrow. "Not my fault, Seeley. If your mother hadn't—"

"_Don't,"_ he says bitingly, dangerously. "Don't lay this on Mom."

"Yeah, you go on protecting her," his father sneers. "Go on telling yourself that she was a good person and things would've been different if she'd stayed."

"Go on blaming her for your inability to stay sober for longer than a day," Booth snaps back. He almost takes an angry step forward, but Bones' hand is suddenly on his arm. When he glances down at her, she shakes her head silently, her blue eyes expressionless. Or maybe he's simply too furious to read them.

"Maybe we should leave now," Jared interjects quietly, standing too. There's a rare quality of maturity in his voice as he reaches for their father. "Let's go, Dad. Leave it alone."

Aaron shakes him off, eyes fixed on his older son. "No, get off. I still haven't done what I came here to do."

"And what's that?" Booth growls, trying to focus on Bones' fingers on his arm instead of on his clenched fists.

There's a beat of tense silence before Jared sighs and explains, "Dad's been in and out of jail over the past few years. Disorderly conduct in the streets and stuff like that. I told him you might be able to help with that."

Disorderly conduct. Why is he not surprised? Nodding as calmly as he's able, Booth says evenly, "Get out of my apartment. I can't help you."

"Can't?" his father jeers. "Or won't?"

Booth glares at him. "Either way, you're not getting anything from me."

Aaron laughs darkly, his eyes narrowing. "Still the same stupid kid."

He sees it coming. He sees it in the way his father's arm tightens, in the way his shoulders roll ever-so-slightly. He sees it in the way his father's feet shift and in the way his own body automatically recoils. He sees it all, and then he feels it, cracking across his cheekbone and radiating down his jaw and through his nose. He sees it coming, but he's not prepared at all, so his father's fist sends him spinning away, hitting the ground hard.

Jared's yelling, Bones is shouting, and his father is giving him a smug, derisive stare, but he can't move. Suddenly, he's twelve again, blood gushing out of his nose as he lies still on the ground and wonders what the hell he did wrong. He brings up an arm to wipe at his nose and the sleeve of his shirt comes away bright with blood. He can feel it running down his face and over his lips, and his entire left cheek throbs.

It's very familiar, the pain. Also the dread and the anger. It's so familiar that for a moment, he almost reflexively curls into a ball, because that always worked back then. If he looked badly injured, his father would stop. But he catches himself just in time and denies his father the satisfaction of seeing him completely helpless. Instead, he sits up slightly and holds his sleeve to his nose, trying to staunch the bleeding.

"Never could take a hit back then either," Aaron remarks off-handedly. Fighting off Jared's hold, he starts forward again, clenching his hand into a fist, but Bones shoves herself between him and Booth on the ground.

"Bones, _get out of the way_," he orders hurriedly. He doesn't think his father would have any qualms about hitting women, and there is _no_ way Bones is getting hurt on his behalf.

But of course she doesn't listen. She's always been so goddamned stubborn like that, and he loves it, usually. Right now, though, he's cursing her innate need to rebel and tries to push her out of the way. Undeterred, she stands her ground, her eyes hard. "Get out of here," she says coldly, with a force behind her voice that he hasn't heard for a long time. "Get out right now and don't come back."

"Getting your woman to fight for you now, huh?" Aaron snorts, not budging. "What kind of man are you?"

"Dad," Jared says lowly, a restraining hand on his father's arm, "don't be stupid. Shut up."

It's too late though. Bones has already brought her leg up and, with admirable calmness, knees his father hard between the legs. The derisive laugh is wiped right off his face as he goes down with a half-yell of surprise and pain. Booth has to think, it's almost worth being hit in the face to see Bones do that to his father.

"Oh God," Jared exclaims, dropping to his knees to pull Aaron up. "You okay, Dad? I told you not to…" His words trail off into a snort of laughter, and then he's chuckling helplessly, shaking his head in amusement. "Damn it, Dad, I _told_ you not to…to mess with Doctor Brennan. That's the _one_ thing you don't do. Come on, now." Still laughing, he drags his father to his feet and says to Booth, "Get that cleaned up, big bro. I'll get him out of here."

"Thanks," Booth manages. "And don't bring him back."

To Bones, Jared says, "Congratulations on the baby. Really. I'm happy for you two."

"Thank you," she says pleasantly, as if she hasn't just kneed a guy in the balls. Booth has to admire how absolutely collected she can be.

The two visitors take their hasty exit, and Bones turns hurriedly to look at him. Grabbing the arm he's holding to his nose, she asks anxiously, "Are you all right? He hit you very hard."

"I'm fine," he mutters, pulling his arm away from his face. But the blood runs fresh down to his lips, so he presses his sleeve back with a sigh. "It's nothing, Bones."

"Your nose might be broken," she argues, touching the side of his face gingerly. Ignoring his winces, she moves to his nose, feeling it gently. After a moment, she says, "I don't feel any broken bones. You'll probably just have extensive bruising for a few days."

"Thanks," he says, grimacing as he levers himself to his feet. "And thanks for that. Back there."

"It wasn't much of a physical exertion on my part," Bones replies matter-of-factly. "I'm fine." She gives him a scrutinizing look and asks, "Are _you_ fine?"

"I'm okay," he reassures her. At her long stare, he sighs and admits, "All right, maybe not. But I'll be okay." His father's visit has rattled him up. He just needs time now to adjust. To think and to right things in his head.

Thankfully, she nods understandingly—she _would_ understand needing space—and says, "I'm here for you, Booth. To talk to, I mean."

He nods, taking her hand gratefully. "I know. I'll talk to you, Bones, sometime. But not today, not now."

"All right." She leans forward and gives him a soft kiss on the right cheek, the good side. With a smile, she squeezes his fingers and says, "We should get you cleaned up, and then we can eat pizza with Parker, okay?"

He smiles back, wincing as it pulls at his nose and cheek. "Okay."

"Good." Grinning, she adds, "Then I think we should tell him properly about the baby."

The baby. Telling Parker about his future brother or sister. Right. The last of the tension leaving his shoulders, Booth nods and says, "Yeah, we should. I can't wait to see his reaction."

"Come on. We should get some ice on your face first," Bones says, and pulling his hand, she leads him away to the kitchen.

* * *

><p><strong>Thoughts?<strong>


	6. The Ex

**A/N:** Thank you all so much for your patience. I'm sure you can tell by now how absolutely horrible I am at keeping up any semblance of an update schedule. I'm having writer's block with the Parker chapter so I wrote this one instead. I promise I'll get back to Parker, but for now, I hope you enjoy this one!

Leave a review!

* * *

><p>Booth stares at the aisles of food and sighs. He glances at all the labels for a moment, tries to remember what Bones asked for, and finally pulls out his cell phone.<p>

It takes her a while to answer. "Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones." At the sleepy edge to her voice, he adds, "Did I wake you up?"

"Yes." She yawns and asks, "What do you want?"

"What do _you_ want?" he counters. "I can't remember which brand you asked for. Was it the almond nut or the peanut butter crackers?"

"Neither," she answers. "I wanted the cherry berry walnut granola bars."

What the hell is that? Giving the shelves another once-over, he asks, "Is that even a real flavor, Bones?"

"Yes, Booth, of course." She's starting to sound a bit annoyed. "I told you about three times. It should be right next to the apple cinnamon, if you'd only look."

"All right, all right," he grumbles. "No need to get snappy. _I'm_ the one out here shopping at midnight because you just _had_ to have your very cherry nut bar."

"_Cherry berry walnut granola bar_," she corrects in exasperation. "Do you need to write it down?"

"No, I got it," he retorts, slightly annoyed himself. He's usually fine with running around for Bones (he's fine doing _anything_ for Bones), but he's been on a case for the past week, and he probably hasn't gotten more than five hours of sleep in the last two days. Now he's shopping for some mystery granola bar that probably doesn't exist when he could be passed out in his bed right now. He's definitely not in his best mood.

Which is why he's all the more fazed when he straightens up, the phone still jammed between his shoulder and his ear, to find a very familiar face staring at him.

"Seeley," she says, and Booth just sort of stares back, at a complete loss for words.

There's a moment of pure silence until Bones' voice crackles through the phone again. "Booth? You still there?"

Then he unfreezes and says hurriedly, "I'll call you back," before he snaps the phone closed, eyes still riveted on the woman standing in front of him.

"Seeley," she repeats, and he lets out a long breath.

"Hannah."

Yep, it's her. Months apart hasn't changed a thing about her. Her hair's maybe a little longer, but it's the same blond curls. Her blue eyes are the same too, narrowed in that familiar reporter look she has. There's a shopping basket on her arm with nothing in it. She doesn't look all that surprised to see him.

Well, he's _definitely_ surprised to see her. He'd thought he'd never lay eyes on her again after that disaster of a marriage proposal. He'd been _glad_ that he'd never have to face her again. But here she is, standing right in front of him at midnight in the supermarket, and he has no idea what to say. What the hell is she doing here?

She laughs at the dumbfounded expression on his face. "Surprised to see me?"

He has to clear his throat twice before he finds something to say. "Well…_yeah._ What are you doing here?"

"Shopping, duh," she answers, smiling. At his skeptical look, she sighs and adds, "I was looking for you."

"Well, you found me," he says slowly. "What…how long have you been in D.C.?"

She shrugs, setting the shopping basket down before straightening to regard him fully. With a soft smile, she brushes her hands down his shoulders and glances up at him. "You're just the same, Seeley. Still handsome as ever."

Funny how he spent months sleeping with this woman, as close as you can possibly be to another person, and now he feels absolutely uncomfortable just standing within two feet of her. Taking her hands from his shoulders, he steps back and asks again, "What are you doing here, Hannah?"

At his perplexed expression, her grin falters a bit, and her brow furrows. "I thought you'd be glad to see me. I've done a lot of thinking about what we both said that night, and I think I might have been a little…hasty. I wasn't exactly ready, and you completely caught me off-guard. But now I've had a long time to think about it, about us, and I think—"

"Stop," he interrupts, shaking his head as he backs up another step. "Stop right there."

Her smile disappears entirely, and she frowns at him. "Seeley, don't you remember what I said? That we weren't over, even after that night?"

"And I said we were," he retorts tightly, remembering their conversation all-too-well. "I said we were done, Hannah, and I meant it. Neither of us was coming back from that."

"That's not true." Her frown deepening, she steps in close to him again and reaches for his hand. "That's not true, Seeley. Look, I love you. I realized that nothing would change that, so I flew all the way back to D.C. to tell you that I'll take the ring. I'll take the ring and the big marriage, whatever. I just love you, and I want you to know that."

Oh God. How can her timing be just _this_ bad? Rejecting him once, then coming back expecting him to welcome her with open arms when Bones, the woman he really loves, is _pregnant_ with his child. How can anyone's timing be this bad? It's so bad, such a jarringly horrible situation, that it's almost funny. If he weren't stuck feeling sorry for Hannah, he might've laughed.

As it is, he keeps a straight face and says as gently as he can, "Hannah, it's not going to work out between us."

"No, it will," she replies stubbornly. "We can _make_ it work, Seeley, as long as we don't give up."

"I'm telling you, it won't work," Booth tells her. Pulling his hand away from hers, he says, "It's been _months_, Hannah. Did you just expect to come back here to find everything the same? Did you think I just sat here for the better part of a year pining for you and waiting for you to come back to me?"

He can see how his words hit her, because her expression shutters suddenly and she takes a step back. "Do you mean…" She hesitates, searches his face, and then continues slowly. "Do you mean you've found someone new?"

New? Not really. It was Bones from the beginning, and it'll always be Bones, no matter what happens. But he doesn't tell Hannah that. He just says, "Yes, I have."

At that, she sucks in a sharp breath and stares at him, apparently at a loss for words. He can't help but feel sorry for her then, for this woman who left her family and her home for him, this woman he might have married once, this woman who wants him back now. But he can't give her anything anymore because he's given everything he ever had to Bones. To his beautiful partner, his girlfriend, the love of his life. And Hannah is none of that.

Finally, Hannah says, more subdued now, "Are you sure, Seeley? I mean…do you love her? Like you loved me?"

He doesn't really have to think about that question. "No," he says honestly, wondering how to phrase this without hurting her. "I…love her _differently_ than I loved you. It's not the same."

That's true enough. Anything to do with Bones can't possibly be compared with anyone else because she'll just blow any and all competition out of the water. And he loves Bones differently than he ever loved Hannah, differently than he ever loved Rebecca even. He loves Bones in that deep, run-to-the-market-in-the-middle-of-the-night, drop-everything-at-her-every-call, take-a-bullet-for-her-in-a-second way that he's never loved anyone else with in his life. It's just…Bones. It's always been her.

Hannah still doesn't seem convinced though. With a heavy sigh, she says, "Look, I'm sure we're both pretty tired right now. We should talk in the morning, when we're refreshed and more awake, okay? Take a night to think on this. I'll see you at that corner diner at eight tomorrow?"

He shakes his head with a sad smile. "No, you won't. I don't need time to think on it, Hannah. I'm sorry, but we just…well, we missed our moment. We had a good time, but we just missed our moment, okay? It's not going to happen again between us."

Disappointment flashes across her face, and she asks quietly, "You won't even consider it? I flew down here from New York, and you won't even consider me?"

"Hannah." He locks eyes with her and hopes she can see the sincerity there. "Listen. I loved you once. I might have even married you, if you'd said yes. But this girl, I've been in love with her from day one. She's brilliant and funny and beautiful, and I love her. I wouldn't leave her for anything or anyone, not even you."

"So that's it?" Her voice turns slightly bitter, though she struggles visibly to contain her anger. "A few months and you're ready to spend the rest of your life with her? What, do you have a ring for her too?"

"A few months?" He barks a laugh and shakes his head, his eyes narrowing at the edge to her voice. "Try eight _years_, Hannah. I've been in love with her forever."

He sees the realization shoot across her face, and he doesn't miss the flicker of jealousy that she tries to hide behind flat eyes. "So it's Temperance? Temperance Brennan?" she asks evenly, carefully expressionless. "But…you told me that night that you didn't have feelings for her anymore. After she confessed to you in your car that night, you told me that it was just some stupid crush, that you loved _me._ _I_ was the one you loved."

He sighs and shakes his head, knowing that anything he says now is bound to hurt her one way or another. "I'm sorry, Hannah. I'm sorry that I lied, but it wasn't ever some stupid crush between me and Bones. I love her. Always have. It just…wasn't something I wanted to admit to anyone back then, not even to myself."

"Right," she says scathingly, her tone suddenly snapping in anger. "So all along, all those times you told me that you loved me, those were all lies too?"

"No," he tries. "Yes. Well, _no_, but kind of…" With a sigh of frustration, he runs a hand through his hair and admits, "It's hard to explain. I know that sounds stupid, but it is. I think I loved you, Hannah, I really did. But I loved Bones back then too. It's just that…I love Bones in a way that's _more_, you know? More than anyone else at any time. I just hadn't exactly realized that when I was still with you."

He winces at the inadequacy to his answer. It sounds like a pale and weak excuse, but he's got nothing better. He's got no excuse for his behavior, and he doesn't even want to think on that time ever again. He was just lost, and now he's found his way again, with Bones, and that's that. He doesn't know how to explain that in words, and to his ex-girlfriend, no less.

She shakes her head, obviously disbelieving. "But you admit that you loved me," she insists, some of the anger fading from her voice. "You _did_ love me. So there's still a chance."

"No," he says, shaking his head. "I told you, I'm with her, all the way."

"What if I were to fight for you?" Hannah challenges, hands on her hips as she leans up into his face. "What if I were to fight Temperance for you? I can, you know. I can take her on, and I think I can win, if you'd only give me the chance. I can show you why I'm the better choice." Her voice softening, she adds with a soft laugh, "I still love you, Seeley. Even after hearing about your love for Temperance that's just more than everything else, I still love you. Doesn't that count for something?"

There's an earnestness, a plaintive note, to her voice that would have made him waver once. Once, when he'd been much less certain about Bones' feelings for him, when he'd thought that this was all one-sided nonsense on his part, he might have let Hannah in. But not now, and not ever again. He thinks of Bones sprawled delightfully in his bed, thinks of the way her stomach is just starting to swell, and shakes his head with a small smile.

"I'm sorry," he says sincerely, looking Hannah in the eye. "But you can't win. If you fought for me, you wouldn't win, and there's nothing you can say to me that'll make me believe that you're the better choice. I'm sorry you still love me, and I'm sorry I can't love you back, but it's the truth. It's just the truth."

She's silent for a long moment before a sad, defeated smile breaks across her lips, and she shakes her head. "What is it, Seeley? Tell me, what is it that she has that I don't? What made you love her like that, love her so much that you'd never even consider coming back to me?"

He shrugs and smiles back, tucking his hands in his pockets as he thinks. "I don't know," he says slowly. "A million things. A million things that don't make her better than you, just different from you. The way she laughs, the way she talks, the way she moves…I'm not saying she's a better woman. I'm just saying she's the better woman for _me_."

His smile brightens as he pulls out his wallet and opens it. "Oh, and there's this." Flipping past the picture of him and Bones in front of the Jeffersonian, he finds the snapshots he's looking for and hands them to Hannah. She takes them in confusion before her eyes shoot open wide and her mouth opens in a silent, shocked _O._

"Yeah," he says, smiling gently at her incredulous look. "We went to the gynecologist last week, and those are the pictures. It's a girl."

Hannah can't seem to churn out a complete sentence. She just stares at the pictures, whispering, "How…what…how far…?"

"She's a couple of months along," he explains, taking the snapshots back and tucking them into his wallet again. "That's why you can't see much. But there's also that, so…can you see? Can you see all the reasons why you wouldn't win?"

"You're having a _baby_ with her," Hannah splutters, her eyes wide with disbelief. "A _kid!"_

"Exactly." He sticks his wallet back in his pocket and shakes his head. "I'm having a kid with her. I love her. That's the way it is, and that's the way it's going to be no matter what you say to me." Reaching forward, he takes her hand and shakes it firmly for a moment before letting go. "It was nice to see you, Hannah. I know you'll find that guy for you someday."

Then he steps past her and leaves, not waiting for a goodbye.

* * *

><p>It's only when he takes off his coat and walks into the living room to find Bones sitting on the couch that he realizes he never bought those granola bars she wanted. She's sitting there wrapped up in a blanket, and her gaze finds his empty hands immediately.<p>

"Could you not find them?" she asks edgily. "You should have called me. They should have been right there."

He sighs and shuts his eyes briefly, tired and completely unprepared to fight with her. "I'm sorry," he says quietly, shaking his head. "I forgot them."

"_Forgot?"_ she demands incredulously, her eyes narrowing. "Booth, that was the only thing you went out for!"

"I know," he answers, resisting the urge to glare right back at her. Instead, he kicks off his shoes and sits down heavily next to her on the couch, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. "I saw Hannah at the store."

Bones is silent, but he can feel her surprise in the way she tenses instantly. Opening an eye, he reads her insecurity in the way she draws back slightly into herself and in the way she draws the blanket closer to herself. Even after all this time, even after all that's happened, she's still afraid of losing him. The thought warms his heart, and he reaches out to her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"Come here, Bones," he murmurs, settling her close beside him. "Relax."

"What did she say?" she asks, her voice quiet now.

After a long moment, he decides to tell her the truth. "She wanted me back. She wanted to get back together."

There's a beat of silence before Bones asks softly, "And what did _you_ say?"

He sighs at the uncertain way she glances up at him, as if she's afraid he really did get back together with Hannah. Kissing the top of her head gently, he answers, "No, of course. I said no." He said a great deal more than that too, but he won't go into the details now. He just wants to hold Bones in his arms and breathe her in.

Of course, Bones won't let it go at that. "And she just accepted that?" she asks in surprise.

He chuckles and nods. "What else could she do? Knock me out and kidnap me? I told her the truth—that I love you—and I told her about the baby."

"You told her about the baby?" Bones repeats, sitting up abruptly. "What did she…how did she react?"

Booth shrugs. "She was shocked, as expected. I didn't exactly stick around to hear congratulations or anything. I doubt she would have congratulated us anyway. She was caught off-guard." He pulls her back into his side and sighs. "Anyway, she's gone now."

Still, Bones resists his embrace, pulling away slightly. "Booth…"

He glances up at her and tilts his head questioningly. "Yeah?"

"Are you sure you did what you wanted?"

His brow furrowing in confusion, he asks, "What do you mean?"

"I mean…" She gives him a hesitant glance before averting her eyes again. "I mean, you said before that Hannah wasn't a consolation prize. Then you must have felt something real for her once. Are you…_okay_ with rejecting her so quickly?"

Oh, Bones. Trust her to still be unsure of his feelings for her even after he's lived with her for a while now, even after they're having a _baby_ together. With a smile, he kisses her cheek and answers, "Bones, I didn't have to think twice. I'm in love with _you_, and I'm having a child with _you_, not her. I told you…well, I told you that she wasn't a consolation prize because I was angry and confused. I'd been trying to move on, and then there you were, telling me you didn't want any regrets. I wanted you so bad, Bones, believe me. But I was with Hannah, and we'd missed our moment. I thought the kindest thing to do was convince you that I'd really moved on, so you could too."

"So you said that," she murmurs.

"So I said that," he agrees. "I lied, Bones." Kissing her again, just on the edge of her lips, he says quietly, "I love you, Bones. I've always loved you." He pats her stomach and adds, "I love her too."

She touches the hand on her belly and smiles. "Thank you."

With a groan, he stretches out on the couch with his head in her lap, shutting his eyes. "Sorry I forgot about your granola bars, Bones. I'd run and get them right now, but I'm just _really_ tired."

She brushes back his hair and presses a soft kiss to his temple. "It's okay, Booth. Most food cravings last only about fifteen minutes anyway. I don't care anymore."

"I have to take a call on the case in about an hour," he says, eyes still closed. "Can you wake me up?"

"Just go to sleep," she orders, pulling the blanket off her shoulders and onto him. "You need to rest."

"Got that right," he mutters, and then he's out like a candle before she can say another word.


	7. The Son

**A/N:** It's been forever, and for that, I apologize profusely! Here's a thousand and one thanks to anyone still interested in this. This chapter's for you.

Oh, and it picks up the day after the encounter with Booth's dad. Enjoy, and leave your thoughts!

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><p>Booth cracks open the door of the guest bedroom and peers inside. Behind him, Bones tiptoes to stare over his shoulder, her breath hot and distracting in his ear.<p>

"Stop that," he whispers.

"What?"

"Breathing down my neck. It's…"

"Seductive?" she fills in playfully, kissing the edge of his jaw, just under his dark bruise from the day before.

Groaning, he glances back at her and fights the temptation to just sweep her up in his arms and carry her back to their room. Instead, he forces his eyes back to the form of his sleeping son in the guest bedroom. "You have no idea, Bones. But we've got important things to do, so stop it."

"We told him the news yesterday," she replies, pressing up against his back so that he can feel every curve against his muscles.

Trying to ignore her and partially failing, he mutters, "But my dad and brother made a mess of things yesterday. I want to make sure Parker understands what's going on."

"All right. Then let's tell him again."

She moves to push past him, but he grabs her around the waist and pulls her back. "Wait, wait, wait, you can't just go in there and break the news to him just like that, Bones."

She sends him a quizzical look. "But that's what you did yesterday."

"Parker's a _kid_," he explains. "He doesn't understand some adult things, okay? So we've got to have a game plan."

"Oh." Her face lights with understanding. "Adult things like sex."

Booth rolls his eyes and smiles. "Yes, like sex. So let's avoid that subject and tell him in kindergarten terms, okay?"

"Oh, okay." Her brow furrows for a moment as she thinks, and he has to wonder whether it's a good idea to let Bones speak at all. She does have a knack for being tactless, after all. But she's the mother of his child, so he's going to have to get used to tactless. Might as well start now.

Pushing open the door the rest of the way, he tiptoes into the room, pulling Bones by the hand behind him. They stop by Parker's bedside, and Booth smiles fondly as he stares down at his son, tangled in the bed-sheets with one sock missing. Bones grins and pulls his sleeve, pointing to Booth's own bare foot. Like father, like son.

Booth raises his hands and mimes tickling over Parker's still form, and Bones nods with a mischievous grin. On the silent count of three, they both dive into the bed, grabbing and prodding at his son. Within seconds, Parker comes awake with a shriek, batting wildly at his assailants. "Dad! Stop it! Stop _it!_"

Booth laughs gleefully and pointedly ignores him. "Rise and shine, kiddo. It's almost ten in the morning. Come on, wake up."

"I'm awake!" Parker shouts. "I'm awake!"

Booth grins across his victim at Bones. "Does he sound awake to you?"

"Yes," she replies promptly. But at his mock-glare, she adds uncertainly, "But in the interest of the activity, I should say no?"

Boy, is she getting good at understanding his looks. Beaming, he says, "Good girl!" and with silent agreement, they both tackle Parker again. He screams and struggles, and by the end of their little wrestling match, Booth and Parker both end up on the ground with the covers tangled between their legs, and Bones is standing above them laughing.

Panting, Parker says a bit grumpily, "I hate it when you do that."

Booth laughs and ruffles his son's curls. "Get up earlier, and I won't have to resort to that." Sitting up, he pulls the blanket out from under them and tosses it on the bed. "Listen, Parker, Bones and I have to talk to you for a second."

His son yawns and rubs his eyes. "Okay." Then he glances at Booth fully and pauses to stare. "Dad, your bruise looks even worse today."

Grimacing, Booth touches his cheek. It still throbs dully, but between Bones' constant ministrations and the ice packs, it doesn't feel too bad. It certainly looks worse, though, what with its purple and yellow edges. "I've had worse," he assures Parker. "I'm fine."

"He certainly has," Bones agrees.

She seems about to launch into a detailed explanation, but Booth cuts in. "So, Parks, we're going to be serious for a second, okay? Bones and I have something to tell you, and I want you to listen carefully." He pauses and takes Bones' hand to pull himself to his feet. He keeps a hold of her fingers as he turns back to his son and says, beaming wide, "Bones is pregnant, and you know what that means? You're going to be an older brother!"

Parker grins back at him. "I know that."

Not the reaction he was expecting. Booth's brow furrows. "What?"

"I heard you tell Uncle Jared yesterday," Parker says nonchalantly. "Sounds great!"

Booth glances at Bones, who bends down and says, "Well, Parker, you must have a few questions."

To the surprise of them both, Parker shakes his head. "Nope. I pretty much get it all."

The two adults exchange glances, Booth half-baffled and Bones just blank. Turning back to his son, Booth asks, "You get what?"

"Well," Parker says matter-of-factly, "you made sex with Bones, and now you're having a baby."

Booth is ninety-nine percent sure that his heart stops for ten full seconds. Next to him, Bones shoots him a wide-eyed look, so startled and confused that he knows she has nothing to do with Parker's knowledge of _making sex._ He must be hallucinating. He must be having a nightmare of some sort because in no _real_ world would his sweet little ten-year-old kid know about _sex._

"Parker," he says finally, his mouth dry, "where did you hear _that?"_

"Connor Hartley at school," his son answers with a shrug. "He told me and a bunch of other kids about it. Apparently, his mom and the neighbor next door do it all the time."

What kind of school _is_ this? Who is Connor Hartley, and what's that kid's address, and where is Booth's gun? Introducing his ten-year-old to rated R topics should be a capital offense. It should be punishable by death. Booth should hunt that kid's parents up right now and demand what sort of things their son has been exposing _his_ son to. It's unbelievable. Unbelievable.

Parker knows about _sex? _

"It's okay, Dad," Parker says, noting his father's slack-jawed expression. "I get it."

"No," Booth says, shaking his head vehemently. "It's definitely _not_ okay. You're not supposed to know about that. Any of that."

"But I _do_ know."

"But you _shouldn't._"

"I doubt saying anything will erase the knowledge from his mind," Bones points out. "At this point, the best thing to do would be to ascertain how much Parker knows and to caution him against exploring more adult activities until he is of age."

Booth gapes at her. "How can you be so _calm?"_

She gives him a steady look. "I compartmentalize very well, Booth, you know that. I'm just stating the most logical course of action."

Of course. Logical. Right. They should focus on damage control. Intense, brainwashing damage control.

But still…Parker knows about _sex._ He can't tear his thoughts beyond that.

Parker shrugs. "Is it a big deal? Everyone knows about it."

Booth wonders exactly how _much_ Parker knows. He can't possibly know _everything, _can he? Best case scenario: that's all Parker knows. Maybe he knows the words but not the actions. Hopefully. Worst case…Booth doesn't even want to think on it.

He takes a breath and forces himself to calm down. "Parker," he says evenly, "it kind of _is_ a big deal. Sex is a bad thing, okay? It's a very bad thing."

"But Connor said his mom does it all the time."

"It's _very_ bad," Booth insists, looking his son solemnly in the eye. "You shouldn't talk about it or do it, understand? And stay away from this Connor kid. He's a bad influence."

"Why is sex bad?"

Just hearing that word come out of Parker's mouth makes Booth squirm. He splutters, "Just _because!"_

"But _why?"_

Well. Booth stands there and opens and closes his mouth. What plausible reason can he make up on the spot that doesn't reveal anything of the nature of sex? He isn't prepared for the sex talk. He thought he'd have at least five years for that. More, if he could help it. So right now, his mind is painfully blank, leaving him staring down at his son in frustrated silence. Birds and bees, birds and bees…

"Because," Bones cuts in smoothly, "sex is the process of reproduction in which the genetic traits of the mother and the father are mixed in order to create a fetus that will one day become a baby. DNA—which stands for deoxyribonucleic acid—is exchanged in a process called meiosis, which results in a set of mixed chromosomes that contain the combined genetic material of both parents. This will grow into a fetus, and one day, into a child."

Parker's eyes are sort of crossed from Bones' casual throw-around of scientific mumbo-jumbo. Booth stares at her in half-horror that she's talking so candidly about sex, half-confusion at all the words coming out of her mouth. But then, when he glances back at Parker's bewildered expression, he understands and hides a grin.

"_That's_ what sex is?" Parker asks, his voice puzzled. "Connor didn't make it sound like that."

"Of course, that is sexual reproduction for humans and other vertebrate creatures. Plants, for example, have a different process of insemination called pollination. Pollen, from the stamen of a flower, is carried by various means to the carpel of another flower and is transported from there into the ovule, where seeds are formed."

"_Plants _have sex?" Parker sounds positively scandalized. "_Gross!"_

"That's right," Booth says matter-of-factly, smothering a smile. "Sex is boring and very bad, got it? Unless you want a little baby of your own, of course…"

Parker's face scrunches up and he shakes his head furiously. "No way! Babies are gross!"

"That's right," Booth says solemnly. "Except Bones' baby, because it's going to be the most adorable thing on the planet."

Parker seems to consider this for a moment. Then he says reluctantly, "Well, I _guess_ if Bones had a baby, it would have to be super smart and pretty, like she is. But other than that, I hate babies. The last time I had to hang around one, it tried to eat my hair!"

Booth doesn't miss the way Bones flushes in pleasure at the compliment. Giving her hand a squeeze, he laughs and says, "Yeah, so if you want to keep a full head of hair, stay away from Connor Hartley."

Parker makes a face and nods. "Sure." He pauses for a moment, then directs his attention away toward the doorway. "What's for breakfast?"

Later that night, when they're alone after they've dropped Parker off at Rebecca's, Booth slides under the covers of the bed and lets out a heavy sigh. "We dodged a bullet today, Bones."

She furrows her brow as she shucks off her jeans in favor of pajama pants. "I think I would have noticed if someone fired at us."

He grins. "It's an expression. What I meant was, it was close today." He harrumphs and runs a hand through his hair, still wet from the shower he took earlier. "I can't believe Parker knows about sex."

She shrugs as she tosses up the covers to climb into her side of the bed. "Children are much more astute than we give them credit for. I'm sure there are dozens of things that Parker knows that would surprise you."

He rolls his eyes. "Way to make me feel better, Bones."

"That wasn't my intention anyway." Boy, is she getting good at catching his sarcasm. Checking her phone by the bed, she says, "At least he doesn't seem interested in the subject anymore."

Booth remembers again Bones' ingenious deflection. "All thanks to you. That was brilliant, Bones."

She smiles. "I _am_ a world-renown forensic anthropologist. I figured that since you are often bored by scientific explanations, a child would be much the same."

He sends her a mock-glare. "Did you just call me a child?"

"No, I was merely…" At his knowing stare, she relents. "All right, you _can_ be unreasonably childish at times."

"Childish." He pouts. "Really? _Me?"_

She meets his look evenly. "You _are_. I can name a dozen examples right now. You never clean up your socks from the floor, you avoid paperwork like a child avoids homework, you—"

He kisses her, hard. It's one of his favorite ways of shutting her up, especially because she doesn't mind it so much either. By the end of the kiss, she usually forgets what she was talking about and they're both too wrapped up to care, so it's a win-win for all. Booth deepens the kiss and leans down over her, one hand drawing circles across her stomach as he nibbles on her lip. She lets out a soft sigh of contentment, and Booth draws back with a wide smile.

"You were saying?"

Bones thinks for a moment, then shrugs. "I don't remember."

He grins. "Good." Leaning down, he kisses her neck and adds, "Because I can think of a ton of things we could be doing instead of talking."

He makes it halfway down her neck to her collarbone when she stops him suddenly by putting both hands on his chest and pushing back. Surprised and more than a little hurt, he pauses and looks down at her. "What? Is something wrong?"

She seems to deliberate for a moment before a slow, wicked smile spreads across her lips. He groans a little in his throat because that wicked smile means he's probably going to have to wait until she says what's on her mind.

"What?" he prompts again, when she's silent.

"It's just that…" She hesitates and bites her lip. His gaze darts down instantly, and when he looks back up, her eyes are pinned coolly on his. She knows what she does to him, and yet she does it anyway. He stifles a sigh and narrows his eyes—she is getting way too good at this seduction thing.

He presses a slow, burning kiss to her wrist, not missing the way her smile falters a bit. "Just that what?"

She raises an eyebrow and carefully removes her hand from his lips. "Just that sex is bad, remember? It's very bad and boring, and we shouldn't talk about it." Her eyes are gleaming with good humor.

He groans and shakes his head. "Bones…"

She gives him that patented innocent look that never works on him anymore. "What? You said so yourself."

"To _Parker._ We're adults, Bones." He rolls over her and kisses that spot just above her collarbone that makes her gasp. Smiling, he whispers, "I think we can handle some very boring, very bad sex."

She gasps again when he sets his fingers running over her skin. "You think so?"

"If it gets too boring or bad for you," he teases in between kisses, "we'll stop."

She half-glares at him as she digs her fingers into his hair. "Don't stop."

"You're the one who brought it up in the first place." He kisses her lips. "Is this too boring for you? Am I going to have to make this more exciting?"

"Shut up."

Gladly, he thinks as he draws up the covers around them. They have much better things to be doing than talking.


End file.
